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2082441 '' 


I WISH to thank heartily and sincerely for help, the 
following persons: In the compilation of the text: my 
Wife; the Rev. F. A. Hibbert, M.A., Headmaster of 
Denstone College ; Messrs. A. C. Wentworth Lewis, O. 
Nicholas, A. H. Montagu, and G. A. T. Davies ; for 
reading through the MS., etc., and making many useful 
suggestions : my Mother, and Professor and Mrs. Herbert 
Bruce, of Cardiff. 

C. B. 

14 September, 1910. 





EARLY DAYS, 1630-49 

Birth and christening of Charles Stories of his childhood 
Lord Newcastle and Brian Duppa, his tutors Succeeded 
by Lord Hertford, he by Lord Berkshire The Civil War- 
Charles and James at Edgehill The Prince of Wales at 
Reading Oxford Cropredy Bridge Newbury Oxford 
again He is made General of the Western Association 
Travels by Devizes and Bath to Bristol Mrs. Wyndham 
The Prince in Devonshire and Cornwall Goes to the 
Scilly Isles Debates as to Charles' ultimate destination 
Lady Fanshawe's Account of the Scilly Isles and of Jersey 
The Prince in Jersey His household and occupations 
He goes to France His cool reception His personal 
appearance Mile, de Montpensier Escape of James of 
York from England Attempted sea fight between the 
Prince and Lord Warwick's fleet Paris in the Fronde 
Poverty of Henrietta Maria Gilles de Retz Prince 
Charles siays with the Prince of Orange Murder of King 
Charles Effect upon the Cavaliers and upon Charles II. . 


Charles proclaimed in Scotland Montrose Sophia, Princess 
Palatine Embassy to Spain Death of Dorislaus Mile, 
de Montpensier Her opinion of Charles and James 
Charles goes to Jersey Privations of the Court Return to 
France The King at Ghent The " Pomme d'Or" At 
Breda Treaty of Breda Death of Montrose Charles goes 
to Scotland His treatment Secret interview of the King 
and Dean King Battle of Dunbar Charles' good manage- 
ment in Scotland The King marches to England Arrives 
at Worcester Battle of Worcester and defeat of the King 
Traditions of his escape 29 





Sidbury Gate St. Martin's Gate Barbourne Bridge Kinver 
Edge Whiteladies Hobbal Grange A night walk At 
Mr. Woolfe's Back at Boscobel Royal Oak Mr. Whit- 
greave of Moseley and Mr. Huddleston At Bentley with 
Colonel Lane The ride to Bristol The blacksmith be- 
fooled Charles and the Meat -Jack The King discovered 
at Bristol He goes to Colonel Wyndham's at Trent Jane 
Lane Charmouth Bridport Broadwindsor Heale 
House, Salisbury The ride to Brighton The " George " 
at Brighton Mine host The skipper Charles lands at 
Fecamp Rouen Paris 50 



Charles arrives at Paris ; his treatment there Mile, de Mont- 
pensier Duchesse de Chastillon Privations of English 
Court in Paris Factions and quarrels Charles goes to 
Germany Cromwell's spies The King at Coin Attempted 
conversion of Duke of Gloucester The " Sealed Knot "- 
Charles and Spain He fights at Dunkirk Goes to Bruges 
Death of Cromwell The King goes to Spain Charles 
and his sister Declaration of Breda and proclamation of 
Charles in England He leaves Holland, and lands at Dover 
Journey to London 109 



The King's personal appearance and qualities His accomplish- 
ments and learning Charles as author His dogs New- 
castle's advice to the restored King Monk Charles at the 
Council-table The Regicides' fate Act of Indemnity The 
Convention Parliament The Cavalier Parliament and 
religion The Army Finance Charles and his divines- 
Growth of scientific spirit Charles as scientist Touching 
for the King's Evil Superstitions The King's Marriage 
Katherine of Braganc,a Court amusements Tunbridge 
Wells" Flatfoot, the Gudgeon-taker "Second Dutch War 
The Plague The Fire 14 





London under Charles II Streets, taverns, shopping, travelling, 
holidays, amusements Dress and fashions Games 
Furniture *94 



Fall of Clarendon Temple and the Triple Alliance Ambassa- 
dors Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans Treaty of Dover 
Marriage of William of Orange and Mary of York Begin- 
nings of Popish Plot MarvelPs " King's Speech " . . 203 



Titus Gates Shaftesbury, the Whigs, and the Green Ribbon 
Club Pope-burnings The question of the succession 
Fall of Danby Charles and the plot Temple's Privy 
Council " King Monmouth " Illness of Charles Peti- 
tioners and Abhorrers King at Oxford Dissolution of 
Parliament, fall of Shaftesbury, and Whig plots Charles 
absolute Bruce's account of the King's last illness and 
death 221 


A week in a courtier's life The great men at Court James, 
Duke of York Henry, Duke of Gloucester The Duke of 
Buckingham The Duke of Lauderdale The Earl of 
Rochester and Sir Charles Sedley Earl of Dorset " Mob 
of Gentlemen " Prince Rupert Duke and Duchess of 
Newcastle Two Duchesses of York Barbara Palmer 
Anne Fitzroy Duchess Mazarin Louise de Keroiialle 
Nell Gwyn Character of Charles II 252 



INDEX . . 305 


CHARLES II Frontispiece 

From the Painting by JOHN GREENHILL in the National Portrait 



From the Painting by VANDYCK in the National Portrait Gallery 
(Photo, Mansell) 


After the Painting by VANDYCK at Windsor 


After the Painting by HOUBRAKEN 


From an Engraving by FAITHORNE, formerly in the possession 
of F. Roe, Esq. 



From the Painting by VANDYCK at Amsterdam 


From the Painting by MARY BEALE in the National Portrait 


From the Painting by SIR GODFREY KNELLER in the National 
Portrait Gallery 

From the Painting by LELY at Althorp. (Photo, Hanfstaengl) 




After the Picture by SIR PETER LELY 


From a Painting at Hardwick Hall. (Photo, Hanfstaengl) 


From the Painting by KNELLER in the National Portrait Gallery 


From the Miniature by SAMUEL COOPER in the Wallace 
Collection. (Photo. Hanfstaengl) 


From a Miniature by SAMUEL COOPER 

| 26l 


From a Miniature by SAMUEL COOPER 


From the Painting by SIR PETER LELY in the National Portrait 


From the Painting by WILLIAM WISSING in the National 
Portrait Gallery 


EARLY DAYS, 1630-49 

" And that his birth should be more singular, 
At noon of day was seen a silver star." 

HERRICK, Pastoral Upon the Birth of Prince Charles. 

Birth and christening of Charles Stories of his childhood Lord 
Newcastle and Brian Duppa, his tutors Succeeded by Lord Hertford, 
he by Lord Berkshire The Civil War Charles and James at Edgehill 
The Prince of Wales at Reading Oxford Cropredy Bridge 
Newbury 1 Oxford again He is made General of the Western Associa- 
tion Travels by Devizes and Bath to Bristol Mrs. Wyndham The 
Prince in Devonshire and Cornwall Goes to t^e Scilly Isles Debates 
as to Charles' ultimate destination Lady Fanshawe's Account of 
the Scilly Isles and of Jersey The Prince in Jersey His household 
and occupations He goes to France His cool reception His per- 
sonal appearance Mile, de Montpensier Escape of James of York 
from England -Attempted sea fight between the Prince and Lord 
Warwick's fleet Paris in the Fronde Poverty of Henrietta Maria 
Gilles de Retz Prince Charles stays with the Prince of Orange 
Murder of King Charles Effect upon the Cavaliers and upon 
Charles II. 

"^ "^HE husband of my son's nurse going to France 

about some business of his wife, I write you this 

1 letter by him, believing that you will be very 

glad to ask him news of my son, of whom, I think, you 

have seen the portrait that I sent the queen, my mother. 

He is so ugly that I am ashamed of him ; but his size and 

features supply the want of beauty. I wish you could see 


the gentleman, for he has no ordinary mien ; he is so 
serious in all that he does that I cannot help deeming 
him far wiser than myself. . . . He is so fat that he is taken 
for a year old, and he is only four months. His teeth are 
already beginning to come. I will send you his portrait 
as soon as he is a little fairer, for at present he is so dark 
that I am ashamed of him." l 

This baby was Charles, Prince of Wales, born 29 May, 
1630 ; his mother is describing him in a letter to her old 
governess, Mme. de Motteville. His birth was greeted by 
innumerable poems, most of them containing some allusion 
to the star which had been visible as Charles I rode to 
St. Paul's to give thanks for the Queen's delivery. 2 From 
this omen " most men presaged that that prince should be 
of high undertakings and of no common glory among 
kings." If he had spoken of this later in life, Charles II 
might well have anticipated the words of Pope's Achilles, 
"Portents and prodigies are lost on me!" If, however, 
the star was, as Lilly the astrologer declared, the planet 
Venus, its appearance was certainly appropriate enough. 

" The star-led birth of Charles the Prince," so auspicious 
for European politics, was the prelude to one of the most 
troubled and stormy youths ever spent by a royal child. 
Charles' earliest years, however, were comparatively happy 
and normal. At his birth he was declared Prince of Wales 
and Earl of Chester ; and he received the Garter at Windsor 
when he was eight. His christening was a sufficiently 
splendid ceremony, even though certain hopes of prefer- 
ment appear to have been disappointed. He was baptized 
on Sunday " about four in the afternoon, at St. James', in 
the King's little chapel (not in the Queen's), by my Lord 
of London, 3 Dean of the Chapel, assisted by the Bishop of 

1 Strickland, viij. 60 ; Clayton, i. ; and Airy, pp. 4, 5. 

2 Cf. Cowley's Ode on His Majesty's Restauration and Return, st. i. ; 
Dryden, Astrcca Redux, 11. 288 sqq. ; and Annus Mirabilis, st. 18 ; and 
Waller's poem on St. James 1 Park, etc. 





Norwich, almoner. The gossips were the French King, 
the Palsgrave, and the Queen-Mother of France ; the 
deputies, the Duke of Lennox, Marquis Hamilton, and 
the Duchess of Richmond, which last was exceedingly 
bountiful. The ordnance and chambers of the Tower were 
discharged, the bells did ring, and at night were in the 
streets plenty of flaming bonfires. The Duchess was sent 
for by 3 lords, divers knights and gentlemen, 6 footmen, 
and a coach with 6 horses plumed (all the Queen's), and 
alighted not without the gate, but within the court. 
Her retinue were 6 women, and gentlemen I know not 
how many. But all, of both sexes, were clad in white 
satin, garnished with crimson, and crimson silk stockings. 
I hear not of any presents from the gossips ; but the 
Duchesse for her own particular, presented to the Queen 
for the Prince, a jewel estimated at seven or 8000 ; to the 
Welch 1 nurse a chain of rubies estimated at 200 ; to the 
midwife and dry nurse, store of massy plate ; to the 6 
rockers, each a fair cup, a salt, and a dozen of spoons. 
All the Lords also gave plate to the nurse. Besides, the 
Duchess gave to every knight and gentleman of the 
Queen's who came for her, and brought her back to her 
house in the Strand, 50 pieces ; to the coachman 20, and 
to every of the 6 footmen, 10 pieces. There were neither 
lords nor knights made that I hear of, as there was said 
there would be." 2 

In spite of the obvious reasons for such a description, 
we need not distrust Eglesfield's glowing account of 
Charles' good temper and genius as a child, since it is so 
well confirmed by the Prince's later life. Certain incidents 
of his childhood are all that remain to us, and not un- 
naturally, they are all interesting. "When he was but 
very young, he had a very strange and unaccountable 

1 Qy. Melch = milch ? Or more probably Welsh, as the usual custom 
was for the Prince of Wales to have a Welsh nurse. 

3 Mr. Sam.- Meddus to Mr. Jos. Meade, 2 July, 1630; ap. Peck, 
Desiderata Curiosa, ed. 1736 ; ij. 36, and quoted in Captain Clayton's Personal 
History of Charles II, ed. 1859, vol. i. p. 41. 


fondness to a wooden billet, without which in his arms he 
would never go abroad or lie down in his bed ; from which 
the more observing sort of people gathered that when he 
came to years of maturity either oppressors or blockheads 
would be his greatest favourites ; or else that when he 
came to reign he would either be like Jupiter's log for 
everybody to deride and condemn ; or that he would rather 
choose to command his people with a club than rule them 
by the sword." Though afterwards so fine an athlete, 
Charles as a little child was forced to wear iron supports 
for his legs, which at length so oppressed his spirits, that 
an old rocker took it upon herself to remove and hide the 
irons, telling the Countess of Dorset, the head nurse, that 
she would take the responsibility for the action. The 
King was at first angry, but on being reminded that Lady 
Cary had done the same with him in his childhood, with 
good results, allowed the Prince to leave the irons off. In 
spite of this early weakness, and a broken arm, fever, and 
jaundice, in his tenth year, Charles grew gradually stronger, 
and at ten " he would ride leaping horses, and such as 
would overthrow others and manage them with the greatest 
skill and dexterity, to the admiration of all that beheld 
him." 1 

His advance in health and strength he owed to the 
Earl of Newcastle, who, together with Brian Duppa, 3 was 
appointed his tutor in April, 1637. These two early 
guides, unlike their successors, Hertford and Berkshire, 
were, perhaps, the best that could have been chosen for 
the young Prince. Clarendon says of Newcastle that he 
was " a very fine gentleman, active and full of courage, and 
most accomplished in those qualities of horsemanship, 
dancing, and fencing, which accompany a good breeding. 
Besides that he was amorous of poetry and music, in 

1 Memoirs of the Duke of Newcastle, by his wife. 

2 Then Bishop of Salisbury, and afterwards Bishop of Winchester. Charles 
always retained an affection for the Bishop, and visited him on his death-bed, 
and received his blessing. 


which he indulged the greatest part of his time. He loved 
monarchy, as it was the foundation and support of his own 
greatness ; and the Church, as it was well constituted for 
the splendour and security of the Crown ; and religion, as 
it cherished and maintained that order and obedience that 
was necessary to both." 1 Newcastle was a little worldly, 
a little too stiff and ceremonious, a little too conscious of 
his own magnificence and worth, but one of the most faith- 
ful and efficient servants of Charles I. He left England 
after his defeat at Marston Moor, where his " white-coats " 
died in their ranks, and we shall meet him again, enter- 
taining Charles II at Antwerp. His instructions to his 
royal pupil have been preserved and are extremely 
interesting, not only from the light they throw on New- 
castle's opinions, but also from the comparison which they 
inevitably suggest between their advice and Charles' 
subsequent actions and course of life. The letter is as 
follows : 2 "May it please your Highness since it pleased 
your most gracious father, his sacred Majesty, to think me 
worthy to be your governor, I will justify his Majesty's 
choice ; for, what I may want in abilities I will make up 
with fidelity and duty to his Majesty, in diligence and 
service to you. Then for your education, sir, it is fit you 
should have some languages, though I confess I would 
rather have you study things than words, matter than 
language ; for seldom a critic in many languages hath 
time to study sense, for words ; and best he is, or can be, 
but a living dictionary. Besides, I would not have you 
too studious, for too much contemplation spoils action, 
and virtue consists in that. What you read, I would have 
it history, and the best chosen histories, that so you might 
compare the dead with the living ; for the same humours 

1 History of Rebellion. 

- From a copy preserved with the Royal Letters in Harl. MS. 6988, 
Art. 62. Printed by Ellis, Original Letters^ ser. i. vol. iij. p. 288, and by 
C. H. Firth, in his edition of the Life of Duke of Newcastle, pp. 184-187. 
Quoted by Airy, Charles //, pp. 9-11. 


is now as was then ; there is no alteration but in names, 
and though you meet not with a Caesar for the Emperor of 
the whole world, yet he may have the same passions in 
him ; and you are not to compare fortunes so much as 
humours, wit, and judgment ; and thus you shall see the 
excellency and errors both of Kings and subjects ; and 
though you are young in years, yet living by your wading 
in all those times, be older in wisdom and judgment than 
Nature can afford any man to be without this help. For 
the arts, I would have you know them so far as they are 
of use, and especially those that are most proper for war 
and use ; but whensoever you are too studious your con- 
templation will spoil your government, for you cannot be 
a good contemplative man and a good commonwealth's 
man ; therefore, take heed of too much book. Beware of 
too much devotion for a King, for one may be a good man, 
but a bad King ; and how many will history represent to 
you that in seeming to gain the kingdom of heaven have 
lost their own ; and the old saying is, that short prayers 
pierce heaven's gates ; but if you be not religious (and not 
only seem so, but be so), God will not prosper you ; and if 
you have no reverence to Him, why should your subjects 
have any to you. At the best, you are accounted, for 
your greatest honour, His servant, His deputy, His 
anointed, and you owe as much reverence and duty to 
Him as we owe to you ; and why, nay justly, may He not 
punish you for want of reverence and service to Him, if 
you fail in it, as well as you to punish us ; but this subject 
I leave to the right reverend Father in God, Lord Bishop 
of Chichester, your worthy tutor : your tutor, sir, wherein 
you are most happy, since he hath no pedantry in him ; 
his learning he makes right use of, neither to trouble him- 
self with it nor his friends ; reads men as well as books ; 
and goes the next way to everything that he should, and 
that is what he would, for his will is governed by that law ; 
the purity of his wit doth not spoil the serenity of his 
judgment ; travelled, which you shall perceive by his 


wisdom and fashion more than by his relations ; and in a 
word strives as much discreetly to hide the scholar in him, 
as other men's follies to shew it ; and is a right gentleman, 
such a one as a man should be. But, sir, to fall back 
again to your reverence at prayers, so far as concerns 
reason and your advantage is my duty to tell you ; then I 
say, sir, were there no heaven or hell, you shall see the 
disadvantage for your government ; if you have no rever- 
ence at prayers, what will the people have, think you ? 
They go according to the example of the Princes ; if 
they have none, then they have no obedience to God ; 
there they will easily have none to your Highness ; no 
obedience, no subjects ; no subjects then your power is 
off that side, and whether it be in one or more then that's 
King, and thus they will turn tables with you. 1 Of the 
other side, if any be Bible mad, overmuch burned with 
fiery zeal, they may think it a service to God to destroy 
you and say the Spirit moved them and bring some example 
of a king with a hard name in the Old Testament. Thus 
one way you may have a civil war, the other a private 
treason ; and he that cares not for his own life is master of 
another man's. For books thus much more ; the greatest 
clerks are not the wisest men ; and the great troublers 
of the world, the greatest captains, were not the greatest 
scholars ; neither have I known bookworms great states- 
men ; some have heretofore and some are now, but they 
study men more now than books, or else they would prove 
but silly statesmen. For a mere scholar, 2 there is nothing 
so simple for this world. The reason is plain, for divinity 
teaches what we should be, not what we are ; so doth 
moral philosophy, and many philosophical worlds' and 

1 Newcastle may seem here to be too much a follower of Machiavelli or 
the Bacon of the essays, but he is deliberately confining himself to the worldly 
point of view. 

2 Cf. Bishop Earle's Microcosmographie (1628-33), much read at this time, 
ed. Arber, 1895, p. 40. "A downe right Scholler." This same Earle was 
afterwards Prince Charles' tutor in Paris, 1646. 


Utopias' scholars have made and fancied to themselves 
such worlds as never was, is, or shall be ; and then I dare 
say if they govern themselves by those rules what men 
should be, or not what they are, they will miss the cushion 
very much. But, sir, you are in your own disposition 
religious and not very apt to your book, so you need no 
great labour to persuade you from the one, or long dis- 
courses to dissuade you from the other. The thing that I 
have discoursed to you most is to be courteous and civil to 
everybody ; set to, make difference of cabinges, 1 and, 
believe it, the putting off of your hat, and making a leg 
pleases more than reward or preservation, so much doth it 
take all kind of people. Then to speak well of everybody, 
and when you hear people speak ill of others reprehend 
them and seem to dislike it so much, as do not look of 
them so favourably for a few days after/and say something 
in favour of those that have been spoke against ; for you 
may say something of everybody to the best ; the other 
which is railing, scorn, and jeering, is fitter for porters, 
watermen, and carmen, than for gentlemen ; how much 
more then for a Prince, whose dislike is death, and kills 
any subject. Besides, you may be sure the parties will 
hear of it, and though they dare do nothing because they 
want power, nor say nothing for fear of being troubled, 
yet believe it, sir, they are traitors in their hearts to you, 
and of your own making, and so are all their friends. Of 
the other side, to speak well of them will be told too, and 
that wins them as much ; the other loses them ; and this 
way you will get their hearts, and then you have all 
they have, more you cannot have. And how easy a way 
is this to have the people. To lose your dignity and set 
by your state, I do not advise you to that, but the con- 
trary ; for what preserves you Kings more than ceremony ? 
The cloth of estates, the distance people are with you, 
great officers, heralds, drums, trumpeters, rich coaches, 

1 So in MS. (Ellis.) cringes, which approaches it in look and sound, seems 
too " low " a word, 


rich furniture for horses, guards, marshal's men making 
room, disorders to be laboured by their staff of office, and 
cry, ' Now the King comes.' I know these maskers x the 
people sufficiently ; aye, even the wisest, though he knew 
it and not accustomed to it, shall shake off his wisdom, 
and shake for fear of it, and this is the mist is cast before 
us, and maskers l the Commonwealth. Besides authority 
doth what it list. I mean power that's the stronger, 
though sometimes it shifts sides, therefore the King must 
know at what time to play the King, and when to qualify 
it, but never put it off; for in all triumphs whatsoever or 
public showing yourself, you cannot put upon you too 
much king ; yet even there sometimes a hat or a smile in 
the right place will advantage you, but at other times you 
may do more, and civil speeches to people and short doth 
much win of them ; and certainly, sir, civility cannot 
unprince you, but much advantage you. To women you 
cannot be too civil, especially to great ones; what hurt 
were it to send them a dish from your table- when they 
dine with some of your great lords, and to drink their 
health ? Certainly, sir, you cannot lose by courtesy. I 
mean not you should be so familiar as to bring you to 
contempt, for I mean you should keep yourself up Prince 
still, and in all your actions, but I would not have you so 
seared with majesty as to think you are not of mankind, 
nor suffer others or yourself to flatter you so much. The 
incommodities to life and the sustaining of it, and the 
same things the meanest do, you must do the like or not 
live, these things when you are pleased to think of them 
will persuade you that are of the lump of man, and mortal, 
and the more you repeat these thoughts the better Prince 
you will be, both to serve God and for distributive justice 
to your people ; for being a Prince you ought rather to 
give Almighty God thanks for the advantage-ground you 
have of other people, than to be proud. I mean not by 
repeating your mortality to have a death's-head set always 

1 Firth, cj. masters. 


before you, or to cry every morning that you are mortal, 
for I would not have you fall into a divine melancholy, to 
be an anchorite or a capuchin, or with a philosophical 
discourse to be a Diogenes in your tub ; but to temper 
yourself so by this means, as to be a brave, noble and just 
King, and make your name immortal by your brave acts 
abroad and your unspotted justice at home, qualified by 
your well temper and mercy." 

It may be said that Charles did not forget one of these 
precepts, though he carried some of them further than 
Newcastle would have approved. The earliest letter of 
Prince Charles which we possess, belongs to this time, 
written between pencil lines, ruled by Peter Massonet, the 
Prince's writing-master. Henrietta Maria had been applied 
to by Newcastle, in despair, for he could not make the 
Prince take his medicine ; and Charles wrote after the 
terrible event to his tutor : " My Lord, I would not have 
you take too much Phisik, for it doth allwaies make me 
worse, and I think it will do the like with you. I ride 
every day, and am ready to follow any other directions 
from you. Make hast to returne to him that loves you. 
Charles P. For my lord of Newcastle." * 

Before we pass out of the sunshine of Charles' boyhood 
into the shadow of the Civil War, there remains one story 
of a vision which appeared to him at the age of five, of a 
large blackbird in a tree of the royal garden ; the little 
Prince sent some one down with a gun to shoot the bird ; 
but to the sportsman's surprise he found, not a bird, but 
the twelve-year-old widow of Lord Herbert, eldest son of 
the Earl of Pembroke, engaged in stealing fruit, with which 
she pelted her hunter, till he consented to take her in a 
basket to the Prince, as " :i butterfly" ; when the little Prince 
opened the basket, she jumped out and kissed him, gaining 
for herself the Court-name of " Butterfly." a 

1 Airy, Charles 77, pp. 12, 13 ; Captain Clayton, Personal History of 
Charles 77, i. 

* Lady Burghclere, George Villiers, Second Duke of Buckingham, pp. 
16-17 ; and Mme. d'Aulnoy, Memoirs de la Cour a'Angleterre, ii. 59. 


Charles' initiation into serious affairs was on 1 1 May, 
1641, when he carried his father's letter on behalf of 
Strafford to the Lords, without success. In August, the 
Earl of Newcastle resigned his charge to William Seymour, 
Marquis of Hertford, " a man of great honour, great interest 
in fortune and estate, and of a universal esteem over the 
kingdom ; . . . it is very true, in many respects he wanted 
those qualities which might have been wished to be in a 
person to be trusted in the education of a great and hope- 
ful Prince, and in the forming his mind and manners in so 
tender an age. He was of an age not fit for much activity 
and fatigue, and loved, and was even wedded so much to, 
his ease, that he loved his book above all exercises ; and 
had even contracted such a laziness of mind that he had no 
delight in an open and liberal conversation, and cared not 
to discourse and argue in those points which he understood 
very well, only for the trouble of contending ; and could 
never impose upon himself the pain that was necessary to 
be undergone in such a perpetual attendance. But then 
those lesser duties might be otherwise provided for, and 
he could well support the dignity of a governor, and exact 
that diligence from others which he could not exercise 
himself; and his honour was so unblemished that none 
durst murmur against the designation " ; though unwilling, 
through consciousness of his constitutional defects for such 
a post, the Marquis accepted the governorship of the Prince, 
because " the refusing it might prove disadvantageous to 
his Majesty." 1 On 12 January, Charles went to Cambridge, 
took his honorary M.A., and went away the same day ; 
he was incorporated M.A. of Oxford on All Hallows Day, 
1642 ; while the Duke of York was then made M.A. also. 

In February, 1642, Prince Charles came to Greenwich 
to meet his father, leaving his former residence at 
Hampton Court, in spite of the Parliament's protests. 
It was even rumoured that the rebellious party were ready 

1 Clarendon, History of ' Rebellion, iv. 295-296 (ed. Macray, 1888 ; ij. 


to take the Prince from his father by force, while the King 
was at Theobald's ; but the danger was averted by con- 
tinuing the northward march. 

In March, Prince Charles found time to write to his 
sister Mary : " To the hands of the Lady Marie, Princess 
of Auriana, these presents. Most Royal Sister, Methinks, 
although I cannot enjoy that former happiness which I 
was wont in the fruition of your society, being barred 
those joys by the parting waves, yet I cannot so forget 
the kindness I owe unto so dear a sister as not to write ; 
also expecting the like salutation from you, that although 
awhile dissevered, we may reciprocally understand each 
other's welfare. I could heartily and with a fervent devo- 
tion wish your return, were it not to lessen your delights 
in your royal spouse, the Prince of Orange, who, as I con- 
ceived by his last letter, was as joyful for your presence as 
we are sad and mourning for your absence. My father is 
very much disconsolate and troubled, partly for my royal 
mother's and your absence, and partly for the disturbances 
of this kingdom. Dear sister, we are as much as we may 
merry, and more than we would sad, in respect we cannot 
alter the present distempers of these troublesome times. 
My father's resolution is now for York, where he intends 
to reside, to see the event or sequel to these bad unpropiti- 
ous beginnings ; whither you direct your letter. Thus 
much desiring your comfortable answer to these my sad 
lines, I rest, Your loving brother, Charles Princeps. Roy- 
ston, 9 March, 1642." 1 

In May his Highness was made Captain of the Prince 
of Wales' Own Troop of Lifeguards. As Hertford was now 
required elsewhere, a new tutor was found for the Prince 
in the Earl of Berkshire, "for no other reason but because he 
had a mind to it, and his importunity was very troublesome ; 
a man, of any who bore the name of a gentleman, the most 

1 Ellis, Original Letters, iv. 2, quoted by Miss Strickland, Tudor and 
Stuart Princesses, ed. 1888, pp. 264-265. The letter was either dictated, or 
the boy had not yet found his characteristic style. 


unfit for that province, or any other that required any 
proportion of wisdom and understanding for the discharge 
of it. His affection for the Crown was good ; his interest 
and reputation less than any thing but his understanding." l 
Unfortunately, Berkshire later had every opportunity of 
employing his negative qualities in the formation of the 
Prince's character, and his lack of understanding in his 
councils. The Prince was present at the setting up of the 
Royal Standard at Nottingham, and with his brother 
James at the battle of Edgehill in October. At the 
beginning of the fight, Dr. Harvey 2 was entrusted with 
the two Princes, took them to a place apparently safe, sat 
down, took a book from his pocket, and read till disturbed 
by a cannon-ball striking ground hard by ; whereat he 
removed his quarters. Later the old Earl of Dorset 
was bidden by the King take the boys out of danger, 
but refused, saying that he would not be thought a coward 
for ever a King's son in Christendom. Hyde then took 
the Princes, and gives an account 3 of the subsequent events 
differing somewhat from that of Sir John Hinton, physician 
to the King, who says in 1679, writing for the King's 
perusal: 4 "Your Majesty was unhappily left in a large 
field, at which time I had the honour to attend your 
person ; and seeing the danger, I did with all earnestness, 
most humbly, but at length somewhat rudely, importune 
your Highness ; at which your Highness was pleased to 
tell me you feared them not, and drawing pistol resolved 
to charge them, but I did prevail. But one of those 
troopers, being excellently mounted, broke his rank, and 
coming full career, I dismounted him in closing, and Mr. 
Matthews, a gentleman pensioner, rides up and with a 
pole-axe decides the contest." Hyde's account is as 

1 Clarendon, History of Rebellion, vj. 390 ; vij. 324 (Macray, ij. p. 533 ; iij. 
p. 259). 

2 The great physician. 

3 History of Rebellion, p. 358 sqq., and id. ed. ij. 353 sqq. 

4 Cf. Airy, Charles II, p. 16. 


follows : " When the King discerned how doubtfully affairs 
stood, he commanded the prince of Wales and the duke 
of York, who were both very young, to withdraw to the 
top of the hill, attended only by his company of pensioners, 
and commanded Mr. Hyde to wait upon them, and not 
depart from them ; and as they went towards the hill, 
the evening now approaching, they saw a body of horse 
which they made no doubt was the King's, and so moved 
towards them, when sir Richard Grime, an equerry of the 
King's, rid very little before to know them, which he quickly 
did, and was beaten off his horse, and so well counter- 
feited being killed that he was presently stripped ; all 
which being in the prince's view, gave him advertisement 
what they were, so that he diverted his course to the 
other hand, and that body moved as quickly from him, 
being evidently in great apprehension ; and the princes 
had not been long upon the hill before the King sent order 
they should go to Edge worth, where his majesty had lain 
the night before." 

In November, Prince Charles was taken ill at Reading, 
and then spent some time with his new tutor at Oxford, 
which the Royalists made their head-quarters from 1642-46. 
Of the appearance of Oxford during the residence of 
the King and Queen we have a vivid account in "John 
Inglesant," where a passage from Burton's "Anatomy of 
Melancholy " is used with appropriateness and effect. " It 
was really no inapt hyperbole of the classic wits which 
compared this motley scene to the marriage of Jupiter 
and Juno of old, when all the gods were invited to the 
feast, and many noble personages besides, but to which 
also came a motley company of mummers, maskers, 
fantastic phantoms, whifflers, thieves, ru filers, gulls, wizards 
and monsters, and among the rest, Crysalus, a Persian 
Prince bravely attended, clad in rich and gay attire, and 
of majestic presence, but otherwise an ass; whom the gods 
at first seeing him enter in such pomp, rose and saluted, 
taking him for one worthy of honour and high place, and 

OXFORD, 1642-44 15 

whom Jupiter, perceiving what he was, turned with his 
retinue into butterflies, who continued in pied coats roving 
about among the gods and the wiser sort of men. 1 Some- 
thing of this kind here happened, when wisdom and folly, 
vice and piety, learning and gaiety, terrible earnest even 
to death and light frivolity, jostled each other in the 
stately precincts of Parnassus and Olympus." z The King 
and the young Princes lodged in Christ Church, the 
Queen in Merton, and the whole city was filled with 
soldiers, courtiers, camp-followers, a new and motley 
population. Drilling, building, fortifying, provisioning, 
storing, skirmishes and rumours of skirmishes, were 
mingled with stage-plays in Christ Church or St. John's 
Hall, and the giving of honorary degrees, and the preach- 
ing of sermons on Divine Right, and the trying of cases at 
law by Lord-keeper, Lord Chief Justice, and all the great 
legal officers of the realm. 

From November, 1642, till about June, 1644, the Prince 
of Wales remained in Oxford ; on 18 June he came from 
a visit to Burford to Oxford, on the 23rd went from Oxford 
to the King at Buckingham, and on the 2/th fought by 
his father's side at Cropredy Bridge. By 15 July he was 
with the King at Bath, and in November returned to 
Oxford ; during this time he had been into the far West, 
fought in the second battle of Newbury on 27 October, 
and doubtless gained a good knowledge of the dissensions 
and jealousies among the King's nobles, and the hopeless- 
ness of the cause. Of the Prince's second stay in Oxford 
we have two anecdotes preserved ; he incurred a blow on 
the head from his father's staff in S. Mary's Church, being 
observed "to laugh at sermon-time upon the ladies who 
sat against him." 3 We are forcibly reminded of certain 

1 Burton, Anat. Mel. (ed. 1836, pp. 25-26). 

1 John Inglesant, ch. ix. (ed. 1905, pp. 96-97). I make no apology for 
quoting this again, though Mr. Marriott has already done so in his admirable 
volume on Falkland in this series, as it is so eminently appropriate. 

3 Diary of Dr. Ed-w. Lake (Camden Soc. Misc. i) ; quoted by Airy, p. 17. 


later scenes in the Royal Chapel, recorded by Pepys and 
Evelyn. On another occasion, Charles saw a rebel soldier 
being dragged along the streets, and recommended his 
immediate hanging, in case his father should pardon him. 
Of the Prince's earlier stay in Oxford, we are told that- by 
the request of his cousin Rupert, Prince Charles pleaded 
successfully for the life of Colonel Feilding, condemned to 
death for his surrender of Reading. 

In March, 1645, the King sent his son into the West, 
and gave him a regular Council, made him Duke of 
Cornwall, general of the Western Association and general- 
issimo of all the King's forces in England and Wales. He 
left Oxford at eleven o'clock, 4 or 5 March, 1645, in an 
incessant storm of rain, lodged that night at Faringdon, 
passed thence to Devizes, reached Bath on the 6th or 7th, 
and stayed there for a few days. Suffering greatly on his 
journey for lack of food and money, he found Bristol, on 
9 April, in a similar state. In Council the Prince of 
Wales was judiciously repressed by Hyde, who with 
Prince Rupert, did his best to secure order and efficiency ; 
but Goring and Grenville rendered all measures of reform 
ineffectual by violence and disobedience, though for a time 
difficulties were smoothed over at the public meeting at 
Bridgewater on 23 April ; there Mrs. Wyndham, nurse 
of Charles, first showed her evil influence over the Prince. 
As wife of the Governor of Bridgewater, she was a woman 
of some importance, as nurse of the Prince of Wales, she 
conceived herself to be of still greater moment, and en- 
couraged the boy in less serious, if not absolutely vicious, 
pursuits ; she even tried to weaken his respect for his 
father, and to set his Council against his household. 
" Being a woman of great rudeness and a country pride, 
nihil muliebre prater corpus gerens, she valued herself much 
upon the power and familiarity which her neighbours 
might see she had with the Prince of Wales, and therefore 
upon all occasions in company, and when the concourse of 
people was greatest, would use great boldness towards 


him, and sometimes in dancing would run the length of 
the room and kiss him ; add to this, that she affected in 
all companies a very negligent and disdainful mention of 
the person of the King, all which made us desire that the 
Prince should be as little in her company as might be." * 
On 30 April, Charles returned to Bristol, but there the 
plague broke out, and at the beginning of June he went to 
Wells, thence to Bridgewater, and thence on the 25th, to 
Barnstaple, with which " fine sweet place " he was 
much delighted. On 21 July he writes to Sir George 
Carteret from Liscard, asking speedy help for Guernsey 
Castle. Owing to the increasing factions and jealousies in 
the West, it became impossible for the Royalists to make 
any effectual resistance to the rebel forces, and the last 
months of the Prince's stay in England were spent in 
marching and counter-marching to very little purpose. 
On 28 July he was at Launceston, on 29 August in 
Exeter, where, instead of lodging at the Deanery, as he 
had done on his visit in 1644, he probably slept at the 
house of Mr. Potter, a merchant, where the ostler, who met 
him at Bridport in 1651, saw him. The Prince found time 
to visit his little sister Henrietta Anne, and for her sake 
he always entertained kindly memories of Exeter ; and at 
her death in 1670, he gave the city her portrait by Lely, 
which still hangs in the Guildhall there. 

On 1 6 September, Charles was again at Launceston, 
on 24 October in Liscard, about 21 November in Truro ; 
he then made a great effort to relieve Exeter, starting 
26 December, and marching by Bodmin, 2 Tavistock, 
Totnes, and Dartmouth ; as hope of relieving the city 

1 Clarendon, ix. 18-19, v l- i v - P- 2 3 Airy, pp. 20-21. Clarendon also 
says, " The Bishop of Salisbury drew attention of the Council when at Barn- 
stable to the bad companionship of a youth named Wheeler, who forthwith 
was ejected from the town." Clarendon, ix., quoted by Fea, Seventeenth 
Century Beauties. 

2 It was, perhaps, at this time that he made the remark that Bodmin was 
" the politest town he had ever seen ; half the houses were bowing, and the 
other half uncovered " (Hone Table-Book, i. 348). 



vanished, he retreated by Tavistock to Launceston, in 
January, 1646, to Truro on 12 February, and finally on 17 
February to Pendennis Castle, where he stayed till Monday, 
2 March, 1646, when he embarked at 10 p.m. with Hyde, 
Colepeper, and Berkshire, on the " Phoenix " frigate, arriving 
in St. Mary's, Scilly Isles, on Wednesday afternoon. 

During the last months of the struggle in the West, 
letters were constantly arriving from the King, relative to 
the ultimate destination of the Prince of Wales, in the 
worse event. France and Denmark were successively 
suggested, Scotland and Ireland absolutely forbidden ; it 
was, however, strongly felt that Charles should keep on 
English territory, and therefore the flight was made to the 
Scilly Isles. Mrs. (afterwards Lady) Fanshawe, wife of 
Charles' secretary, thus describes the wretched state of 
St. Mary's and its visitors. "After being pillaged, and 
extremely sick, I was set on shore almost dead in the 
island of Scilly. When we had got to our quarters near 
the Castle, where the Prince lay, I went immediately to 
bed, which was so vile, that my footman ever lay in a 
better, and we had but three in the whole house, which 
consisted of four rooms, or rather partitions, two low 
rooms and two little lofts, with a ladder to go up ; in one 
of these they kept dried fish, which was his trade, and in 
this my husband's two clerks lay, one there was for my 
sister, and one for myself, and one amongst the rest of the 
servants. But, when I waked in the morning, I was so 
cold I knew not what to do, but the daylight discovered 
that my bed was near swimming with the sea, which the 
owner told us afterward it never did so but at spring-tide. 
With this, we were destitute of clothes, and meat, and fuel, 
for half the Court to serve them for a month was not to be 
had in the whole island ; and truly we begged our daily 
bread of God, for we thought every meal our Last. The 
Council sent for provisions to France, which served us, but 
they were bad, and a little of them." l This scarcity, and 

1 Memoirs of Lady Fans hawe t p. 71. 


the danger from Parliamentary cruisers, induced Charles 
and his Council to leave the island, and on Thursday, 
1 6 April, they and the three hundred persons of the 
King's retinue embarked on the " Proud Black Eagle " and 
two smaller vessels, and arrived in Jersey on Friday 
evening, "beyond the belief of all beholders from that 
island ; for the pilot not knowing the way into the 
harbour, sailed over the rocks, but being spring-tide, and 
by chance high water, God be praised, his Highness and 
all of us came safe ashore, through so great a danger." l On 
the voyage to Jersey, Prince Charles steered the frigate 
himself, staying two hours at a time at the helm. One 
of his first commands on coming to Jersey was that a 
barge should be built for him at St. Malo ; and on 8 
June, 1646, it was ready, a perfect model of a pinnace, of 
great length fore and aft ; painted and blazoned with the 
Prince's arms. She had cushioned stern-sheets, twelve 
pairs of oars, two masts, and two sails ; and in her, there- 
after, Charles always went over from the Castle to the 
mainland. On the second Sunday after his arrival, the 
Prince came to service in St. Heliers ; the church was 
carpeted, and strewn and decorated with flowers ; and his 
Highness was escorted by a guard of one hundred cavaliers, 
and two hundred musketeers. While in Jersey, Charles 
was even more devout than in Cornwall, and Lady Fan- 
shawe says that she only saw him at church, where he 
occasionally received the Sacrament. While doing his 
duty in the Council and as commander of the troops 
Charles did not neglect to win the hearts of the Jersey 
folk. 2 Chevalier, a gentleman of Jersey, kept a full journal 
of the Prince's various visits to the island, whence we 
glean most of our information concerning these matters. 

Chevalier's own summary of his Prince is : " Ce'toit un 
Prince grandement benin." For Charles in Jersey showed 

1 Memoirs of Lady Fanshawe, p. 71. 

2 For the life in Jersey, cf. S. E. Hoskins, Charles II in the Channel 
Islands, 1854 ; Airy, ch. i., etc. 


all the tact and care in trifles of courtesy for which he is 
distinguished. Chevalier describes his table thus : " Quand 
au sujet du maintien de la table de ce Prince, il e*toit tel, 
que chacun savoit son poste, et les choses y etoient mises 
pour un si bon ordre, que le tout se faisoit avec plaisir et 
contentement a les voir, comme chacun etoit prompt a son 
office." At the upper end of the table were laid silver 
plate, knife, and fork ; in dishes of silver were served up 
the meat and fish under the direction of Mr. Duncome, the 
server. First, Charles stood uncovered while a Doctor of 
Theology pronounced a blessing, then, putting on his hat, 
seated himself, the Doctor standing at his right hand, and 
the lords and gentlemen-in-waiting, all uncovered, round 
him. A page, kneeling on one knee, presented a silvergilt 
ewer and basin, and a napkin ; and after the Prince had 
washed and dried his hands, each dish in succession was 
offered to him. The dish selected was taken to a side 
carver at the opposite end of the table, who carved some 
slices, and then tasted and laid them on a silver plate, and 
his Highness then cut up and ate the slices. Another 
kneeling page gave him bread cut into long thin pieces, 
on a silver salver, and when he had finished the first 
course, his plate and the dish partaken of were removed. 
The cup-bearer then offered the Prince to drink, having 
first tasted the draught himself, and whilst his Highness 
drank, held a vessel under his chin, lest a drop should fall 
upon his clothes. The cup empty, the page took it, retiring 
with a bow. After the meal, the carver collected the 
remnants of broken bread, etc., in a silver dish, dessert was 
served, the chaplain said grace, and the Prince went out. 
This is all very orderly and stately, far otherwise than the 
manner of dining in state after the Restoration, where the 
lords-in-waiting were often unfit by slovenliness of dress, 
or actual intoxication, to wait upon the King, and when t\e 
spectators were not to be kept back by the guards from 
violently ravishing away the good things. Whether the 
cooking and selection of the victuals we-re good, we do not 


know ; but the Comte de Gramont was once bidden by 
Charles to observe that the King of England was served 
on bended knee, a mark of respect not usual at other 
Courts. " Oh, is that the reason ? I thought they were 
begging your Majesty's pardon for giving you such a bad 

Lady Fanshawe charmingly depicts Jersey at this time 5 
"There are many gentlemen's houses, at which we were 
entertained; they have fine walks along to their doors, 
double elms or oaks, which is extremely pleasant, and 
their ordinary highways are good walks by reason of the 
shadow. The whole place is grass, except some small 
parcels where corn is grown. The chiefest employment 
is knitting ; they neither speak English nor good French ; 
they are a cheerful, good-natured people, and truly subject 
to the present Government." 

The stay in Jersey was chiefly spent in intrigues con- 
cerning the disposal and destination of the Prince. 

Hyde and his supporters desired the Prince to stay in 
Jersey till the King's fate was decided ; but the Queen was 
earnest that her son should come to France. On 20 June, 
departure to France was resolved on, and henceforward we 
find Charles eager to go, and Jermyn anxiously keeping 
him away from the soberer councillors. " From Tuesday 
morning that he first intended to goe, he stayed with great 
impatience, and would never suffer any of his attendants 
or trayne to goe out of the castle, lest they might be absent 
la that article of tyme when the winde should serve, which 
he resolved to lay hold of. So that nobody went to bedd 
from that tyme till they came into France, and eate only 
such meate as my Lady Cartwright could suddanly pro- 
vide. The Lords Capel and Hopton and the Chancellor 
of the Exchequer went once a day to kisse his handes, 
and stayed very little tyme, ther growinge every day a 
visible strangenesse betweene them and the rest, in so 
much that they had little speech together, and the last 
day none ; the other lords sittinge upon the rock of the 


water syde, whilst they walked upon the bowling green 
with the Prince, who quickly left them, and they re- 
turned." On Thursday, 24 June, Charles went on board 
the frigate, but was beaten back by a contrary wind ; but 
" about five of the clocke, the winde continuinge still con- 
trary, he resolved to try his fortune, and suddanly putt all 
his company aboard, and himselfe went into his shalley, 
resolvinge to row over ; but within half an hour after he 
was at sea the winde came fayre, and blew a pretty gale, 
so that he went into the bigger vessel, and by eleven of 
the clocke at night reached the French shore, and lay at 
anchor till daybreak, and then he landed with all his 

Charles' fortune at sea was very different to his 
mother's, over whose mishaps by water her son and 
daughter Henrietta made merry to each other in after 
years. The only personal memento of the Prince's visit 
to Jersey is a single riding-boot, kept in the armoury of 
Elizabeth Castle ; it is suited for " a boy of sixteen, and 
made of coarse leather, thick-soled, with a heel made up 
of many pieces." 

On the morning of Friday, 26 June, Charles landed 
at Cotainville, whence he proceeded to Paris, and after- 
wards to St. Germains. His reception in France was cool 
and formal. " The French allow the Prince nothing of 
their great promises ; and I think the Corte wish themselves 
at Jarsey agayne." Later, Charles Murray writes to Hyde 
from Fontainebleau : " The Prince hath been at Fontaine- 
bleau, and, truly, received as civilly, and with as much 
respect as could be ; being met two leagues on the way by 
the King and Queen Regent ; and they all alighted, and 
saluting, were taken into the Queen Regent's coach, the 
Prince sitting on the right hand of the same side of the 
Coach as the King . . . the Prince behaved himself in 
the journey so handsomely, that he has gotten the love 
of all that have seen him, both men and women. Yet 
though his entertainment has been noble and kind here, 


I do not find any thing offered, either by present, or 
addition to the Queen's exhibition, for his subsistence." 
While in Paris, Charles read with good Dr. Earle an hour 
a day, and appeared to be of " a sweetness of nature not 
easy to be corrupted." Unfortunately, through the manner 
of life forced on him by circumstances, by the careful ill- 
training of Mrs. Wyndham, his nature had already become 
corrupted ; and now Buckingham came on the scene, to 
extend and complete the corruption, aided by Lord Percy, 
and, if we may believe Burnet, by Hobbes, the Prince's 
mathematical teacher. Burnet exaggerates Buckingham's 
evil influence, and the Duke left St. Germains in 1648, to 
take part in Lord Holland's futile rising at Reigate ; but 
he undoubtedly exerted a strange sway over his old friend, 
till the end of Charles' life, a sway almost impossible to 
account for, since Charles saw through Buckingham every 
whit as well as Dryden ; let us assume that the influence 
was due to mutual affection : for we have proof from the 
Duke's letters that the feeling was genuine on his side at 

In whatever excesses the Prince at present indulged, 
he was outwardly religious, even arousing Anglican fears 
by going to Charenton, the headquarters of Presby- 
terianism. The Queen, too, kept him entirely in subjec- 
tion, made him dependent on Jermyn for pocket-money, 
and caused English company to be as far removed from 
him as possible. " Now the English were kept at a great 
distance, while the French were as familiar with him as 
could be imagined." The Prince had little or no share in 
business ; he dared not come into his mother's presence 

In appearance Mme. de Motteville describes Charles at 
this time as " very well made ; his swarthy complexion 
agreed well with his large bright eyes ; his mouth was 
exceedingly ugly, his figure extremely fine. He was very 
tall for his age, and carried himself with grace and dignity. 
His natural tendency to wit and repartee was not noticed, 


for at that time he hesitated and even stammered, a 
defect observed in his father and still worse in his uncle 
Louis XIII." In later years this stammering was apt 
to overwhelm Charles in his rare moments of embarrass- 
ment, as in reading speeches in Parliament at awkward 

Mile, de Montpensier, daughter of Gaston, Due d' 
Orleans and cousin of Louis XIV, was selected by 
Henrietta Maria as a fitting wife for Prince Charles ; and 
while objecting to the match and to Henrietta's methods, 
the lady condescends to say of her royal suitor : " He is 
tall for his age, with a beautiful head, black hair, a swarthy 
complexion, and a tolerable figure." In spite of Hen- 
rietta's frantic exertions^perfunctorily and sulkily seconded 
by the Prince of Wales, the wooing made no progress, 
owing to Charles' lack of sincerity and consequent faineant- 
ism, and also to Mademoiselle's exacting nature. Made- 
moiselle herself was tall and graceful, blue eyed and flaxen 
haired, with the aquiline Bourbon nose, and a lovely mouth. 
She was too vivacious and touchy to maintain her dignity 
in moments of stress, and she was inordinately conceited, 
and like all her house, " fort appliqude aux bagatelles," a 
description which with dramatic irony she afterwards applied 
to Charles. The autumn and winter of 1646-47 were filled 
with a succession of balls, plays, and masques, at which the 
Prince appeared in Mademoiselle's co'ours of black, white 
and red, handed her to and from her coach, held a torch at 
her toilette, and followed her like a spaniel but spoke not 
a word, leaving conversation and pretty speeches to Prince 
Rupert. About February, Mademoiselle conceived the 
idea of marrying the Emperor, and Charles transferred 
his attentions to the Duchesse de Chastillon. In Sep- 
tember, 1647, Mme. de Motteville reports that " Pity and 
tenderness for his misfortunes added lustre to his good 
qualities ; he is improved in appearance, displays no 
brilliancy of wit ; is reserved, and far from fluent in enuncia- 
tion." By this, Charles had tired of Court life, and wished 


to join the French army in Flanders ; but Mazarin checked 
the idea on the ground that it was beneath the dignity of 
England's heir to serve in a foreign army : his real object 
being to keep Charles a semi-prisoner of State. 

Affairs in Britain were at a new crisis. Scotland was 
divided into Covenanters and Engagers, or those for 
Covenant and King, and those for King and Covenant. 
After various intrigues, Charles accepted the invitation of 
the Engaging majority in the Scotch Parliament to come 
to Scotland. He therefore left St. Germains with Rupert, 
Culpeper, and Hopton, on 25 June, 1648, intending to join 
Hamilton, the Engagers' leader; but news of Royalist 
risings in the south and south-east of England, and of the 
revolt of part of the fleet, took him to Holland. He 
arrived at Helvoetsluys on 9 July. Here he found the 
revolted fleet, with his brother James in nominal command, 
in utter disorder. He restored some semblance of disci- 
pline, and, putting James ashore, set sail on 17 July. 

Before we follow the Prince of Wales further, it is worth 
while to see how James of York came to be on board the 
new Royalist fleet ; for he had been captured in Oxford 
by Fairfax in June, 1646. Early in April, 1648, Colonel 
Charles Bampfylde gained access to James, measured his 
height and his waist with a ribbon, and gave the measure- 
ments to Anne Murray, daughter of the King's old tutor. 
She went to a City tailor, and got some lady's clothes 
made " of a mixed mohaire of a light colour and black, 
and y e under petticoate of scarlet," after some surprise on 
the tailor's part as to the relative length and girth of the 
required garments. Meanwhile the Duke had been told to 
play often at hide-and-seek with his brother Henry and 
his sister Elizabeth, so that he might be often missed for 
half an hour or so without causing his guards any alarm. 
On 20 April he sent for the gardener and asked him for 
his key of the garden-gate, saying that his own was 
broken. After supper he called his brother and sister to 
their game, locked his dog into his sister's room, lest it 


should follow and betray him, locked the balcony door 
and threw away the key, and then went downstairs. On 
the way his foot slipped, and, fearing discovery, he ran to 
his own room, took up a book, and pretended to read. 
All was quiet, and he soon made his way downstairs, 
through the garden, and into the park, treble locking all 
the doors. At the last gate Bampfylde awaited him with 
a cloak and wig, which the Duke put on, and " they hied to 
Spring Gardens as gallants come to heare the nightingale." 
On the other side of the gardens they entered a coach, 
drove to the river, took barge and rowed down stream to a 
house where Anne Murray and her maid awaited them. 
James was quickly dressed in his disguise, had a meal, and 
went away with a " woodstreet cake, which," says Anne, 
" I knew he loved." They had not gone far in the boat 
when the boy laid his leg upon the cabin table " and 
plucked up his stocking in so unwomanish a manner," that 
the bargemaster's suspicions were aroused, and he was 
hardly persuaded to take them to Gravesend ; even then 
the wind was so violently contrary that the Colonel wished 
to turn back. But the Duke cried, " Doe any thinge with 
mee, rather than lett me go back againe," and at last they 
reached the Dutch vessel that lay waiting for them, and in 
her they finally reached Middelburgh on Sunday, 22 April. 
Charles sailed to Yarmouth, and a little later Lauder- 
dale arrived at the Downs, with instructions from the 
Committee of Estates. On 16 August, Charles yielded 
to the Engagers' terms. But soon came the news of their 
defeat at Preston, and of the fall of Colchester; so that 
the Prince recommended Lauderdale to go to Holland, 
whither he would follow with the fleet. But after vain 
endeavours to persuade the sailors to return to Holland, 
Charles was compelled to stand to Warwick's fleet on 
29 August, in Lee Road. The fight was prevented by 
a storm, and there being now but one butt of beer and no 
water in all the fleet, the sailors gave way, and on 3 Sep- 
tember Charles anchored at Goree ; Warwick followed, but 




the States ordered Van Tromp to anchor between the 
fleets and prevent hostilities. On the day of the expected 
battle, " the Prince behaved himself with as much gallantry 
and courage in this businesse as ever you saw : when his 
Lords and all his seamen came to desire him to go down 
into the hold under the decks, he would not hear of it, and 
desired them not to speak of it any more." After further 
negotiations with Scotland, during which the Prince of 
Wales had a sharp attack of small-pox, Scotland was 
abandoned for the time, by Hyde's management, and 
Ireland thought of, whither the Queen wished to accom- 
pany her son. 

Paris at this time was oppressed by a severe winter, 
and the turmoils of the Fronde ; and Henrietta found 
herself often without a fire, " or a sou to get a dinner or a 
gown," insomuch that when visited by Gilles de Retz, 
Coadjutor- Archbishop of Paris, she was found sitting by 
her little daughter's bedside, not suffering her to get up 
owing to the cold. The Coadjutor assisted the Queen, 
even as he afterwards helped Charles himself. 1 The Prince 
of Wales now reduced his household and took up winter 
quarters at Breda as the guest of his brother-in-law, the 
Prince of Orange. At this time, Charles received three 
letters from his father, dealing with the Isle of Wight 
treaty; on 13 January, 1649, he learnt his father's ex- 
tremity of danger ; on 14 January, he appealed person- 
ally to the States, and together with their remonstrance 
sent a blank sheet of paper signed with his name, to the 
Parliament, on which might be written the conditions of 
the King's life. On the i8th he appealed to Louis XIV 
and to Mazarin. On 5 February, Dr. Gough, his chaplain, 
addressed him as "your Majesty." Charles burst into 
tears, and rushing into his bedroom wept alone. 

Charles was truly and deeply affected by his father's 
death, but not with that unspeakable horror and frenzy of 
grief which struck the King's old friends and councillors. 
1 And was in his turn helped by Charles after the Restoration. 


For them it was not only murder, but parricide, not only 
treason, but deadly sin and sacrilege, and in their eyes no 
acts of retaliation were unjustifiable, as the subsequent 
open murders of Dorislaus at the Hague and of Ascham in 
Madrid sufficiently show, as also the plots against Crom- 
well's life, to which the best and wisest Cavaliers lent 
countenance, the King only, be it remembered, remaining 
ignorant of, or disapproving, them. 


"The sweet fruition of an earthly crown." 

MARLOWE, Tamburlaine. 

Charles proclaimed in Scotland Montrose Sophia, Princess 
Palatine Embassy to Spain Death of Dorislaus Mile, de Mont- 
pensier Her opinion of Charles and James Charles goes to Jersey- 
Privations of the Court Return to France The King at Ghent The 
" Pomme d'Or "At Breda Treat) of Breda Death of Montrose 
Charles goes to Scotland His treatment Secret interview of the 
King and Dean King Battle of Dunbar Charles' good manage- 
ment in Scotland The King marches to England Arrives at Wor- 
cester Battle of Worcester and defeat of the King Traditions of his 

CHARLES, with the advice and co-operation of 
Hyde, elected his Council from the late King's 
friends, the only member of the Paris Party 
being Long, the King's secretary. Ireland, Scotland, and 
England were the possible fields of action ; and Hyde's 
party inclined to Ireland, the King and his mother also 
approving that course. On 7 February, Charles was 
proclaimed King in Edinburgh, but the Scots soon made it 
clear that the proclamation would be an empty form, unless 
the King would subscribe the Covenant. But this he 
would not do. Not only had he Ireland on which to fall 
back, but also the pure Royalist Scots, Napier, Sinclair, and 
Montrose, and the Engager Scots, Hamilton and Lauder- 
dale. On the Commissioners' arrival at the Hague, Charles 
was too occupied with his Easter devotions to receive 
them, but on n April they obtained an audience. The 


King temporized, and conferred constantly with Montrose 
and Hamilton ; and on 19 May he replied that he would 
accept the Covenant for Scotland only. Nevertheless, 
he had produced a very good impression, even on 
Baillie the Kirk's representative : " His Majesty is of a 
very sweet and courteous disposition ; it is all the pities 
in the world but he were in good company. ... It is 
verily a great pity of the King ; he is one of the most 
gentle, innocent, well-inclined Princes, so far as yet appears, 
that lives in the world ; a trimme person and of a manly 
carriage, understands pretty well, speaks not much. . . . 
It were a thousand pities that so sweet a man should 
not be at one with all his people." 

The one true and pure figure among all the tortuous 
intrigues of these times is James Graham, Marquis of 
Montrose, for ever enshrined in the hearts of all true 
Cavaliers. Never, save from his bitter foes the Cove- 
nanters, rendered all the more venomous by the knowledge 
that they lied, has a breath tarnished his fair fame ; but he 
passes, a splendid and a mournful figure, across our sight ; 
then, as now, he drew admiration from all, affection from 
many, and a passionate adoration from a few. His 
weakness lay in the fact that he was a very perfect gentle 
knight, a hopelessly chivalrous soul in an age when 
chivalry was dead, at least in the narrower and more 
romantic sense of the term. A soldier, a scholar, a poet ; 
and more than all else, a leader of men, rather by his 
wonderful fascination and utter loftiness of soul, than by 
skill or mere will-power. Among his worshippers was 
Sophia, Princess Palatine, to whom Charles at this time 
paid desultory love. The King, however, won in the end 
only passionate scorn from his fair cousin, for his desertion 
of the great Marquis, and if he really had no greater 
esteem for her than a remark would seem to indicate, 
Sophia was fortunate in not yielding to her mother's 
entreaties not to reject so good an alliance. For Charles 
thought to compliment her, or perhaps indicate that his 




wooing was at an end, by saying that she was handsomer 
than his mistress, Mrs. Barlow. When the King next 
wished for a walk with the Princess, she refused on the 
ground of a corn on her foot. Hyde speaks of the King 
at this time as " hopeful for virtue and judgment as you 
can expect from one of his years and education," 

At this critical time, Hyde and Lord Cottington were 
sent on an embassy to Spain, ostensibly to secure help 
and money, in reality, perhaps, to get rid of the Chancel- 
lor's unwavering opposition to any Scotch advances. At 
least, the Scots had a better day of it in council than ever 
before, after Hyde's departure. Charles was now in great 
straits for lack of funds to organize an expedition, and 
even for the most ordinary expenses. " He has not enough 
to maintain his family there one day ; and there are few 
among his followers who can maintain themselves in the 
most private way ; he is furnished with blacks, and other 
mournful emblems of his father's death, besides all things 
necessary for his support, by the bounty of the Prince of 
Orange." The murder of Dorislaus, envoy of the Parlia- 
ment, in a tavern, and certain other reasons, hastened the 
King's departure from Holland, and he went in June f 
cursing the Dutch, to Brussels ; here he was civilly used 
by the Spaniards, but failed, like his ambassadors at 
Madrid, to raise money. From Brussels, he passed by 
Valenciennes and Pdronne to Compiegne, where the 
French Court lay. 

Mile, de Montpensier had for some time past been 
hard pressed by her own and Charles' relations to accept 
him as her husband. Never really willing to do this, she 
appealed to the difference in religion as a last resource. 
Nevertheless, when Charles approached Compiegne, she 
dressed carefully and accompanied the Court in their 
coaches to the forest beyond the town, to meet her royal 
suitor. "After proceeding for about a league further on 
the road, we saw carriages advancing in the opposite 
direction, and when they met, we all alighted. The King 


of England immediately came forward, and kissed his 
aunt's hand and his cousin's, who both greeted him with 
all marks of regard and affection, due to so near and 
illustrious a relative. He then saluted me, and I could 
not help observing that he had very much improved in 
person since his former visit to France. I verily believe, 
that if his wit and intelligence had been equal to his 
personal grace, I might at that time have been captivated 
by him. But, all the way back to Compiegne, he talked 
of nothing but dogs and horses, with the King, speaking 
in French of the field sports he had been amusing himself 
with in Holland, but, when the Queen attempted to engage 
him in conversation on other subjects, he was dumb ; and 
when she pressed him for an opinion relative to public 
affairs, with which he ought to have been conversant, he 
excused himself from answering on the plea that he could 
not express himself fluently in our language. From that 
moment I resolved not to conclude the marriage, con- 
ceiving a very bad opinion of a King who, at his age, did 
not interest himself in his own affairs. At dinner the 
King threw himself upon an enormous piece of beef, 
and a shoulder of mutton, as if there had been nothing 
else. His taste did not appear to me delicate, and I was 
ashamed." After dinner, the pair were left alone, but 
Charles was absolutely dumb, until Mademoiselle, in angry 
despair, called in M. de Comminges, when he talked fast 
and well. Finally, Mademoiselle persuaded Charles to say 
a little about her English friends, but he refused to make 
pretty speeches. After bidding adieu to the King and 
Queen, Charles said to Mademoiselle, " I believe that M. 
Jermyn, who speaks better than I do, has explained to 
you my intentions and desires. I am your very obedient 
servant" To which Mademoiselle replied, " I am your 
very obedient servant." Lord Jermyn paid all the neces- 
sary compliments, the King bowed and departed to St. 
Germains. If Mademoiselle had become Queen of England 
she would undoubtedly have been an even greater intriguer 


and broil-maker than her aunt Henrietta, but this might 
have had either of two effects : an earlier expulsion of the 
Stuarts, or the effectual awakening of Charles, and a con- 
sequent amelioration of government. For Charles would 
not have married Mademoiselle for love, and she would 
therefore have possessed little influence over him. 

With his mother at St. Germains, Charles was equally 
reserved, and plainly showed that she must not expect to 
rule the King as she had ruled the Prince of Wales, or to 
take an active part in business. " He made no apologies 
to her, nor any professions of resigning himself to her 
advice. ... he did as good as desire her not to trouble 
herself in his affairs ; and finding her passions strong, he 
frequently retired from her with some abruptness." 
Charles was accompanied to St. Germains by Lucy 
Walters, alias Mrs. Barlow, but we are not told whether 
this affected Mademoiselle, though she does say that in a 
second interview, Charles remarked that on marriage he 
would give up all irregular connections a singular whim in 
which he seems to have believed before his actual marriage 
with Catherine. 1 This interview took place when Made- 
moiselle went to the convent of S. Dominique at Poissy. 
James of York, whom she preferred to Charles, escorted 
her, but Charles and Henrietta insisted on joining the 
party. Mademoiselle says of James : " He was then a young 
Prince of thirteen or fourteen years, very pretty, with good 
features, fair, who spoke French well, which gave him a 
much better air than had the King his brother, for, to my 
mind, nothing so disfigures a man as inability to talk," 
and compliment me, Mademoiselle might have added. 

The remainder of the time which Charles spent in 
France was spent chiefly in disagreements with his 
mother, and factious contests between their respective 
supporters. Tom Elliot, Groom of the Bed-chamber, had 
come from England to the Hague, after Hyde's departure, 

1 Charles once said, " If ever he could be guilty of keeping a mistress after 
he had a wife, she should never come where his wife was." 


and been welcomed by the King, though previously 
removed from about his person, in 1645, by order of 
Charles I. Being married to a daughter of Mrs. Wynd- 
ham, he persuaded the King to make Colonel Wyndham 
Secretary of State. Hyde and Cottington, on their way 
to Spain, came to Paris at this juncture, and strove to 
prevent the foolish appointment. Cottington at length 
came into the presence-chamber, and begged that an old 
falconer of the late King's might be favoured : " It is true 
that your Majesty keeps no falcons, and the poor man is 
grown so old and cannot ride as he used to do ; but he is 
a very honest man, and can read very well, and has as 
audible a voice as a man need have, wherefore I beseech 
your Majesty to make him your chaplain. ... I do assure 
your Majesty the falconer is, in all respects, as fit to be 
your chaplain as is Colonel Wyndham to be Secretary of 
State." Under the instant laughter of the Court, in fear 
of subsequent ridicule, Charles gave up the project. On 
12 September, the King left St. Germains for Jersey, 
went through Normandy with sixty horses and six six- 
horse coaches, visited Lady Ormonde at Caen, went on 
the i6th to Coutances and lodged with the Bishop : the 
jovial prelate accompanied the King on the next day to 
Cotainville, and provided a banquet with music, in his 
honour; for this, however, boat and wind being ready, 
Charles and his train could not stay, and on M onday the 
i/th the King embarked on his pinnace and, steering it 
himself, reached Jersey at four o'clock, with four and a half 
livres in his pocket, out of the 300 pistoles with which 
he had left St. Germains. Chevalier, who saw the King 
land, describes him as "about nineteen years old, of 
middle stature, well formed, and graceful ; features sedate, 
but pleasant ; complexion sallow ; hair dark brown, inclining 
somewhat to black. Demeanour dignified ; affable in 
discourse. His dress purple, with a silver star on the left 
side of the cloak ; a purple scarf or ribbon across the chest 
and a garter of the same colour, with the ends hanging 


down behind the leg, round the left knee. The housings 
of his horse and holster-coverings of plain purple stuff. 
The Duke of York in his sixteenth year, tall and slight, 
lively and pleasant ; in a black suit with a silver star on 
his mantle, with purple scarf across his shoulder." He 
also describes the landing of the Duke of Buckingham 
from the Normandy packet, 18 January, 1650: " He was 
a handsome youth, of lofty stature, dressed in black, 
wearing the silver star on the left breast, purple garter 
round the left leg, in all respects like the King and Duke 
of York, but that he wore no purple scarf across his 
shoulder." The King at first spent his days in hunting, 
shooting, and yachting, to the great distress of his followers. 
This idleness was fostered by Mrs. Wyndham, who soon 
arrived and " governed the King and everyone else like a 
minister of state": and Lord Byron says on 12 October: 
" I find that his stay here hath been so far from enabling 
him in any way, that it hath rather extremely increased 
his necessities, and that foreign princes begin to look upon 
him as a person so lazy and careless in his own business 
that they think it not safe, by contributing to their 
assistance, to irritate so potent enemies as they fear his 
rebellious subjects are like to prove." He must go to 
Ireland, and " not be taken here in a nook of the world 
with his hands in his pocket." On 30 November, Charles 
knew from Ormonde that Ireland was lost ; and soon Sir 
George Winram and Silas Titus arrived in Jersey, bringing 
new overtures from the Scots. " Now is the time," wrote 
Winram, " to pray that God the Lord will prevent the 
King with his tender mercies, for indeed he is broght verie 
low. He has not bread both for himself and his servants, 
and betwixt him and his brother not one English shilling ; 
and wurse, if I durst write it, ... I am confident no 
ingenuous spirit will take advantage of his necessityes . . . 
soe that his case is very deplorable, being in prison where 
he is, living in penurie, surrounded by his enemies, and not 
able to live anywhere else in the world unless he would 


come to Scotland by giving them satisfaction to their just 
demandis. Yet his pernicious and devilish council will 
suffer him to starve before they will suffer him to take the 
League and Covenant." 

Though three of the King's Council were firmly anti- 
Scotch, though the gallants talked of throwing Winram 
over a wall, though the King apparently objected to the 
Scotch overtures, yet early in June, 1650, it was decided to 
treat with the Scots on honourable terms, " without pre- 
judice to his Majesty's affaires under the Marquis of 
Ormonde or the Marquis of Montrose." After this final 
council Byron writes in a different strain about the King : 
" I must not omit, that during this debate, the King 
expressed such moderate patience and judgement as was 
admirable in a person of his years, and such truly as I 
little expected from him ; repressing by his excellent 
temper, those heates and animosities amongst us, which 
otherwise would utterly have destroyed the busines ; and 
certainly, it is one of the greatest curses God hath laid 
upon his subjects, that they are so long deprived of the 
knowledge, and fruits of his vertue and goodness ; which I 
never knew more eminent in any young man." Before 
leaving Jersey, Charles' clothes were "so spotted and 
spoiled that they are not to be seen out of this island," 
and Edward Progers is directed to get an " embroidered 
sute," a hatband and belt, and " a plain riding sute with 
an innocent coate." On 13-23 February the King left 
Jersey, embarking from Elizabeth Castle at nine in the 
morning, on Captain Amy's frigate. James came on 
board to say farewell, and thrice embraced his brother, 
weeping bitterly. At three in the afternoon, 1 Charles 
reached Cotainville, where he was met by the Bishop of 
Coutances, at whose house he lay that night. " Friday 
morning 15 February (O.S.), his Majesty and whole 
traine left and lay that night at St. Lo ; the night 
following at Caen, when the Lady Marquis of Ormonde, 

1 Another account says 9 p.m., 24 February. 


having a desire to kiss the Queen's hands, his Majesty 
was pleased to take her and the Lady Isabella Thynne 
with him in his owne Coache, and the next morning 
passing from Caen, by reason of foule weather and ill 
wayes came in very late that night to Lisieux. The night 
following his Majesty lay at Bliosne, a little Burge where 
there was no good accommodation ; and the next night at 
Elbceuf, within four leagues of Rouen, upon the river 
towards Pont 1'Arche where he was treated by the Due d' 
Elbceuf. There he mett letters from the Queene signifying 
her intention to be at Beauvais to meete his Majesty, the 
Thursday following. Soe the next day early, passing over 
Ponturch he laye at Trippneuve nine leagues short of this 
towne, and the next day, being Thursday 21 February 
(O.S.) he arrived here at Beauvais, where her Majesty 
with Lord Jermyn, &c., came likewise that evening, 
according to appointment." King and Queen met " with 
great kindness on both sides," but he was still reserved 
and obstinate, and at the end of a fortnight matters were 
in the same case, the Queen coming from her last inter- 
view with her son, " very red with anger." A Parliament 
spy writes of the Court at Beauvais : " I had full satisfac- 
tion from my view, and so I think any looker-on would 
have had, and if these be still the counsellors and this the 
company, a man that is no witch may foretell the issue ; 
the discourses, councils, projections, and hopes speake 
such ridiculous follies, and such extreame debauchery is 
amongst them, that you will hardly believe the relation." 
" 5 Martii (N.S.) To-morrow morning the Queen return- 
ing to Paris, his Majesty intends to goe on to Breda, where 
wee are likely to be within ten or eleven dayes. . . . The 
King, (God preserve him) is in very good health, and I 
hope all will be well, any thing to the contrary notwith- 
standing." In view of the impending Treaty of Breda, 
this is in truth dramatic irony. 

On 23 March, Charles reached Ghent. Here the 
governor offered the castle as a lodging, but the King 


applied to the burghers, who answered that there were 
many good inns : the King went to the " Golden Apple," 
but refused to receive the magistrates. They then asked 
if he would accept the pipe of Rhenish usually offered to 
foreign Princes, or a money equivalent Charles haughtily 
refused the money ; the Rhenish, however, came, and 
under its influence the Cavaliers behaved so badly that the 
citizens sent in a bill of 1800 guelders (;i8o), 200 being 
charged for salt, vinegar, and butter. King and courtiers 
were almost penniless after paying this bill, and " could 
we but have sworn and cursed in Walloon and Dutch as 
well as in English, the Flemings should have heard how we 
devoted them to the devil." On Saturday, 26 March, 
Charles arrived at Breda. So also did the Scots Com- 
missioners. On Tuesday they had an audience in the 
King's bed-chamber. The conditions involved taking the 
Covenant, establishing Presbyterianism in all his realms, 
and abandoning Ormonde and Montrose. Pressed on all 
sides, by some of his own Council, by his relations, by 
Christina of Sweden, Charles "with great passion and 
bitter execration," gave up Cavaliers, Engagers, and Irish 
Catholics, or in other words, Montrose, Hamilton, and 
Ormonde. On I May, he signed the first draft of the 
treaty, but its terms were altered to a louder and more 
vigorous strain when the news came of Montrose's 
capture at Corbisdale. On 2 June, Charles embarked at 
Harslaersdyck with Hamilton, Lauderdale, Dunfermline, 
Brentford, Buckingham, Wilmot, Henry Seymour, Mr. 
Rhodes, Dr. Fraser, and his two chaplains, having 
previously received the Communion kneeling, in face of 
Covenanting opposition. He had already scandalized the 
godly by "balling and dancing" into the small hours. 
On the nth, he signed the latest draft, off Heligoland, 
swore to the Covenant outside the mouth of the Spey on 
the 23rd, without deceiving either himself or any one else 
as to his intentions or sincerity. He disgusted his most 
faithful adherents, alienated others, caused his mother 


horror-stricken sorrow, and killed his sister Elizabeth, 
" who hath wept daily ever since/' 

And there remain to us the comments of Jaffray and 
of Livingstone : " We did both sinfully entangle and 
engage the nation, ourselves, and that poor young Prince 
to whom we were sent, making him sign and swear a 
covenant which we knew from clear and demonstrable 
reasons that he hated in his heart ; yet, finding that upon 
these terms only he could be admitted to rule over us, all 
other means having then failed him, he sinfully complied 
with what we most sinfully pressed upon him. ... In 
this he was not so constant to his principles as his father, 
but his strait and our guiltiness was the greater." So 
Jaffray ; and Livingstone says : " It seems to have been 
the guilt not of the commissioners only, but of the whole 
State yea, of the Church." 

Charles landed on 24 June (O.S.), 1650, at Gar- 
mouth, and by the Bog o' Gicht and Strathbogie went 
to Aberdeen, 1 where he was greeted by the burghers 
loyally and enthusiastically, and by the Parliament with 
the hand of Montrose nailed on the town gate. On the 
way to Aberdeen, he crossed the river Ury, and said that 
the scenery reminded him of his " dear England." At 
St. Andrews, Charles was presented with the city keys 
wrought in silver, and entertained with a long oration 
"on the duties of Kings." On Saturday, 16 July, he 
passed through Cupar, where dessert was offered him at 
the Tolbooth, and the schoolmaster was appointed "to 
give him a music song or two while he was at table." 
That evening he came to Falkland. While there, "the 
King's table was well served, and there he sat in majesty, 
waited upon with decency ; he had good horses to ride 
about to take the air, and was then well attended, and in 
all public appearances seemed to want nothing that was 

1 An entry among the King's expenses here : " To gold and silver riband 
and other articles to the maiden, etc., 129. o. 4. Scotts." Fea, King Mon- 
mouth t p. 7 ; Kennedy, Annals of Aberdeen, i. 227. 


due to a great king. . . . He could not dispose or order 
any thing, or himself go to any other place than was 
assigned to him." . . . "Sentinels being set every night 
about his lodgings, few daring to speak freely or privately 
to him, and spies set upon his words and actions, and his 
bed-chamber is not free to himself, the ministers almost 
daily thrusting in upon him to catechize and instruct him, 
and I believe, to exact replies from him." The King 
" wrought himself into as grave a deportment as he could, 
heard many prayers, and sermons, some of a great length. 
I remember in one day there were six sermons preached 
without intermission. I [Gilbert Burnet] was there myself 
and not a little weary of so tedious a service." * " He was 
not so much as allowed to walk abroad on Sundays, and 
if he smiled on those days, received a sharp reproof." 
There was, of course, no dancing, or cards, allowed. Golf 
was permitted, with a special guard for the links. But 
"in the year 1650, to the many fornications and adulteries 
which he then committed, he added the perpetration of 
an attempt upon a modest and virtuous lady," and so 
"incurred the general dissatisfaction of his best friends." 
Buckingham has let us into the secrets of the unspiritual 
side of the Covenanting clergy. "The Puritans break 
downe the hedges and then bid the cattle not to wander. 
. . . They must have a new Religion, and who but the 
Clergy ? Who but Aaron to make the calfe for 'em ? . . . 
At dinners they lay as fiercely about 'em as in the Pulpit." 
On 23 July 2 August, the King left Falkland 
and went to Perth, where he stayed the night, and 
wrote in the City Book of Privileges : " Charles R. 24 
Julii 1650. Nemo me impune lacessit." At Dunfermline, 
Charles met Anne Murray, the lady who had helped his 
brother to escape from England. Not gaining the special 
notice which she had expected from the King, Anne was 

1 Even at the start of the voyage from Holland, Livingstone and another 
minister went on board Charles' ship in harbour, thinking it " a pity that the 
Kg. and Ld. Cassilis should be there, and none to preach to them." 


much distressed and persuaded the good old gentleman 
Richard Harding to speak to the King. Before he left 
the Earl of Dunfermline's house, Charles came up to 
Mrs. Murray and said : " Mrs. Murray, I am ashamed that 
I have been so long a-speaking to you, but it was because 
I could not say enough to you for the service you did my 
brother. But, if ever I can command what I have a right 
to as my own, there shall be nothing in my power I will 
not do for you." From Dunfermline, the King went to 
Stirling, and was invited by the Earl of Eglinton to 
visit the army. On riding to the camp at Leith he was 
enthusiastically received by the soldiers. "The next day 
the Commissioners of the King desired me to retire out of 
the army, pretending it was for the safety of my person, 
but indeed it was for feare I should get too great an 
interest with the soldiers." At Dunfermline again, Charles 
was " narrowly watched by the serious Christians." The 
Kirk next proceeded to expel as many as possible of the 
Engagers and Cavaliers from the army, rilling their places 
with " ministers' sons, clerks, and such other sanctified 
creatures, who hardly ever saw or heard of any sword, but 
that of the Spirit." This new burst of insanity was then 
directed against the King, who was required to sign a 
declaration lamenting his father's opposition to the Cove- 
nant, his mother's idolatry, the sins of all his house, and 
his own delinquencies. Until threatened with immediate 
betrayal to Cromwell, Charles refused to sign, and then 
only after alterations did he affix his signature. This was 
on Friday, 18-26 August, at Dunfermline ; that night 
he rode to Perth, arriving at ten. Here he received a 
messenger from Ireland, Dr. King, Dean of Tuam, and at 
one in the morning, in his bed-chamber, spoke as follows to 
him : " Mr. King, I have received a very good character of 
you, and I do therefore give you assurance that, however 
I am enforced by the necessity of my affairs to appear 
otherwise, I am a true child of the Church of England, and 
shall remain firm to my first principles. Mr. King, I am 


a true Cavalier ! . . . Mr. King, the Scots have dealt very 
ill with me, very ill. I understand you are willing to go 
into Ireland. My Lord of Ormonde is a person that I 
depend upon more than any one living. I much fear that 
I have been forced to do some things which may much 
prejudice him. You have heard how a declaration was 
extorted from me, and how I should have been dealt 
withal if I had not signed it. Yet what concerns Ireland 
is in noways binding, for I can do nothing in that kingdom 
without my council there, nor what I have done is nothing, 
yet I fear it may prejudice my Lord of Ormonde and my 
friends with him, so that if you would satisfy him in this, 
you would do a very acceptable service unto me. ... I 
have endeavoured to send to my Lord of Ormonde very 
often, yet I do not find that he hath received anything 
from me since the treaty. I have endeavoured to the 
utmost to preserve him and my friends there, but I have 
been ill-dealt withal. . . . For such of the Irish as have 
been loyal to me, I will, by God's help, whatsoever my 
father or I have promised them, make good unto them. 
... I am resolved wholly to be governed in the affairs of 
that kingdom by my Lord of Ormonde. . . . Tell them 
that I prefer their particular safeties to any interest of my 
own in that kingdom, and that I account it not only an 
error but a misfortune that I came not thither when my 
Lord of Ormonde invited me." 

On 3 September was fought the battle of Dunbar, 
when Leslie's strong position was abandoned at the 
clamours of the Kirk, promising victory to themselves " in 
as confident terms as if God Himself had directed them to 
declare it." In one hour the Covenanters were utterly 
defeated, and Cromwell held the south of Scotland. On 
apocryphal authority we are told that Charles " fell on 
his knees and thanked God that he was so fairly rid of his 
enemies " ; but he certainly wrote as follows to the Com- 
mittee of Estates : " We cannot but acknowledge that the 
stroake and tryal is very hard to be borne, and would be 


impossible for us and you, in human strength . . . but in 
the Lord's we are bold and confident. . . . Our ancestors 
had only the honour and civil liberties of the land to 
defend, but we have with you, religion, the gospel, and the 
Covenant, against which Hell shall not prevail, much less 
a number of sectaries stirred up by it. ... We shall strive 
to be humbled that the Lord may be appeased, and that He 
may return to the thousands of His people." The ministers 
" now told God Almighty that it was a small thing to them 
to lose their lives and estates, but to Him it was a very 
great loss to suffer His elect and chosen to be destroyed." 
Meanwhile, the expelled members of the army, and other 
malcontents, were uniting for the King against the Cove- 
nanters, and he decided to join them at the Brigg of Erne, 
early in October. Unfortunately he told his plans to 
Buckingham, who told Wilmot, who told Argyle. In 
spite of the strong measures adopted by the Covenanters, 
Charles resolved to escape, and on 4-14 October, dined 
early, afterwards strolling into the garden, where he 
disputed half an hour with Buckingham, and finally went 
out of the gate, and with a few gentlemen, took horse and 
rode towards Fife " without any change of clothes or linens 
more than was on his body, in a thin riding suit of stuffe." 
He rode " at a full career " to Lord Dudhope's near 
Dundee, thence to Lord Buchan's, and thence to the Earl 
of Airlie's, and finally to Clova, where he rested in a 
cottage belonging to the Laird, and was found by one of 
the officers sent in chase " laying in a nastie roome, on ane 
old bolster, above a matte of segges and rushes, over- 
wearied and verey fearfull." That night Charles slept at 
Huntly Castle, went to Perth next day in answer to the 
appealing letter of the Committee of Estates, and " heard 
sermon in his own Presence Chamber." Hereafter, the 
King was given more liberty and more voice in affairs, for 
he had thoroughly startled the Kirk. Yet at the end of 
the year, fasts were appointed, and Charles had publicly 
to bewail the sins of his father and grandfather ; and as he 


said bitterly : " I think I ought to repent too that ever I 
was born." On I January, 1657, Charles was crowned, 
behaving throughout the ceremony "very seriously and 
devoutly, so that none doubted of his ingenuity and 
sincerity." Henceforth he devoted himself to con- 
solidating his power, extending his influence, raising a new 
army, and strengthening military posts ; surprising every 
one by the wonderful skill, tact, and energy which he 
brought to bear on his manifold and difficult tasks. Crom- 
well himself said that " the young man is very active and 
intelligent " ; and Sir Richard Fanshawe writes : " The 
best is ... that his Majesty's judgment and activity both 
in civil and martial affairs are to a degree you would not 
imagine in so few months' growth as he hath trod upon the 
stage ; being the first and forward est upon every occasion 
in either kind, and adventuring his person I pray God 
not too much upon every show of danger, riding con- 
tinually and being up early and late ; with which never- 
theless his health is not abated, but, on the contrary, both 
that and his Majesty's strength increased." On 8 June, 
the Dean of Tuam was able to write : " The King's power 
is absolute, all interests are reconciled ; all factions com- 
posed, the ambitious defeated, the army cheerful, accom- 
plished, numerous. ... It is a ... matter for joy, in which 
your lordship will largely share, to observe the daily acts 
of his Majesty's prudence, vigilance, and high resolution in 
the conduct of affairs." 

Finally, forced by Cromwell's capture of Perth, and the 
consequent cutting off of supplies, into a choice between 
fighting Cromwell, retiring into the Highlands, and invad- 
ing England, Charles chose the third, and on I August 
began his march into England. On the 5th, at his camp 
of Woodhouselee on the border, he published a declaration 
of pardon and oblivion to all who would return to their 
allegiance, save and except the regicides ; and promised 
that the Scotch army should leave England directly it had 
served its purpose. The English did not come in to the 


King's standard so fast as was expected, and the Duke of 
Buckingham suggested that this was because the Scotch- 
man Leslie was commander-in-chief ; and that therefore 
he had better be superseded. On being asked who could 
replace him, Buckingham answered "that he hoped the 
King would confer the command on him. The next day 
he renewed his importunity, and was confident what he 
proposed was "so evidently for his service, that David 
Lesley himself would willingly consent to it." Charles 
said his youth made him unfit for the charge. The Duke 
replied that Henri IV of France won a battle when he 
was younger than he ; " so that in the end the King was 
compelled to tell him he would have no generalissimo but 
himself, upon which the Duke was so discontented that he 
came no more to the council, scarce spoke to the King, 
neglected everybody else and himself, insomuch that for 
days he never put on clean linen, nor conversed with any- 
body, nor did he recover this ill-humour whilst the army 
stayed at Worcester." He employed himself while in that 
city, however, in decking out his own regiment in new 
uniforms. 1 Marching into Lancashire, and receiving there 
some help from the Earl of Derby, the King routed some 
rebels at Warrington Bridge, and marched on, harassed 
by Lambert and Harrison, with Cromwell following him 
close. On 22 August, after a slight opposition by some 
rebels, Charles occupied Worcester. He had left Lord 
Derby in Lancashire, but the Earl was utterly defeated on 
the 25th at Wigan, and fled towards Worcester. Near 
Newport he met Richard Sneyd, who took him to Boscobel 
House on Friday the 29th, where William Penderel and 
his wife kept the Earl safe till Sunday night, and then 
conveyed him to Humphrey Elliot's at Gatakar Park ; 
this gentleman lent him .10, and brought him safe to 
Worcester. On Saturday the 23rd, Charles was proclaimed 

1 In 1660, the Company of Drapers in Worcester petitioned the King for 
the repayment of .453 $s., " requisitioned and expended on red cloth by 
George Villiers, for his regiment of Foot Guards." 


King by the mayor and sheriff, and published a manifesto. 
On Sunday, Crosby offended the Presbyterians by a sermon 
in the Cathedral before the King, in which he styled Charles 
"Supreme Head and Governor of the Church, next unto 
God." On Tuesday, such as answered Charles' summons 
to all men between the ages of sixteen and sixty, mustered 
in Pitchcroft. Few, however, came, and in all the King's 
army was about 12,000 men, against whom Cromwell was 
now bringing 30,000 veteran troops. 

On the 28th, Major-General Massey was routed at 
Upton-on-Severn Bridge by Lambert ; and under cover of 
this fight, Oliver advanced to Stoughton, within four miles 
of the city on the south side, and on the next day appeared 
on Redhill. That night a camisado, or attack in which 
all wore their shirts over their armour, was given upon 
Oliver's camp ; it was unsuccessful, owing to the traitorous 
discovery of the design by one Guyse, a tailor, afterwards 
hanged as reward. " The fatal 3 September being come, 
his Majesty this day (holding a council of war upon the 
top of the college church steeple, the better to discover 
the enemies' posture), observed some firing at Powick, 
and Cromwell making a bridge of boats over Severn, 
under Bunshill, about a mile below the city towards 
Teammouth ; his Majesty presently goes down, commands 
all to their arms, and marches in person to Powick Bridge 
to give orders, as well for maintaining that bridge, as for 
opposing the making the other of boats, and hasted back 
to his army in the city. Soon after his Majesty was gone 
from Powick Bridge," Montgomery was routed there by 
the rebels, and Cromwell finished his pontoon, thus leaving 
Worcester undefended on that side. " His Majesty being 
retired from Powick Bridge, marched with the Duke of 
Buckingham, Lord Grandison and some other of his 
cavalry, through the city and out at Sudbury 1 Gate by the 
Fort Royal, where the rebels' great shot came frequently 
near his sacred person. At this time Cromwell was settled 

1 Sidbury. 


in an advantageous post at Perry Wood within a mile of 
the city, swelling with pride and confident in the numbers 
of his men, having besides raised a breastwork at the 
cockshoot of that wood, for his greater security; but 
Duke Hamilton (formerly Lord Lanerick) with his own 
troop and some Highlanders, Sir Alexander Forbus with 
his regiment of foot and divers English lords and gentle- 
men volunteers, by his Majesty's command and encourage- 
ment, engaged him, and did great execution upon his 
best men, forced the great Sultan (as the Rhodians in 
like case did the Turk) to retreat with his Janizaries, and 
his Majesty was once as absolute master of his great guns 
as he ought then to have been of the whole land. Here 
his Majesty gave an incomparable example of valour to 
the rest by charging in person, which the highlanders 
especially imitated in a great measure, fighting with the 
butt-ends of their muskets, when their ammunition was 
spent ; but new supplies of rebels being continually poured 
upon them, and the main body of Scotch horse not coming 
up in due time from the town to his Majesty's relief, his 
army was forced to retreat in at Sudbury l Gate in much 
disorder. ... At Sudbury 1 Gate (I know not whether by 
accident or on purpose) a cart laden with ammunition was 
overthrown and lay cross the passage, one of the oxen 
that drew it being then killed ; so that his Majesty could 
not ride into the town, but was forced to dismount and 
come in on foot " by crawling between the wheels of the 
wagon. " In the Friars Street his Majesty put off his 
armour (which was heavy and troublesome to him) and 
took a fresh horse 2 ; and then perceiving many of his 
foot-soldiers begin to throw down their arms and decline 
fighting, he rode up and down among them, sometimes 
with his hat in his hand, entreating them to stand to their 
arms, and fight like men ; otherwhiles encouraging them, 

1 Sidbury. 

2 Possibly the horse which Mr. Bagnall, dwelling near the gate, is said to 
have turned into the street ready saddled, at the cry of a horse for the King. 


alleging the goodness and justice of the cause they fought 
for ; but seeing himself not able to prevail, said, ' I had 
rather you would shoot me, than keep me alive to see 
the sad consequences of this fatal day ' : so deep a sense 
had his prophetic soul of the miseries of his loved country 
even in the midst of his own danger. . . . When his Majesty 
saw no hope of rallying his thus discomfited foot, he 
marched out of Worcester, at St. Martin's Gate (the Fore 
Gate being mured up) about six of the clock in the evening, 
with his main body of horse. His retreat was in a measure 
covered by the desperate stand made by a body of rallied 
gentlemen in the town." While in Worcester, the King 
lodged in a house, still standing, at the corner of New 
Street and the Corn-market ; and it is said that he was 
nearly captured here by Major Corbett, only escaping by 
the back door, as Corbett came in at the front. The 
action of the battle lasted from one o'clock in the morning 
until night, the chief heat of the day being in the east, 
the streets running with blood in that quarter. 

Traditions are, of course, numerous as to Charles' 
escape at Worcester. In Friars' Street, an old house is still 
pointed out as a place where Charles changed clothes with 
his host and was let down from a window in a blanket. A 
Mrs. Mary Graves petitioned in 1660 for favours, on the 
ground that she sent the King ten horses " with men and 
money, and two empty, one of which the King rode at 
Worcester, escaping from the field on the other." While 
the King rode out by the Town-ditch into Foregate Street, 
the cry through the city was nothing but " Save the 
King ! " no one knowing what had become of him. Still 
another story is told of a Scotch gentleman bringing water 
in his helmet to Charles as he left the city, and being 
granted estates in 1660, on condition of bringing water and 
pouring it over the hands of any Sovereign of England 
who should cross his lands. The King's route, then, lay 
up Foregate Street and the Tithing, 1 to Barbourne Bridge, 
1 Though not. through the Foregate : see above. 


where a halt was called and a consultation held as to the 
direction of flight. But let the King tell the story of that 
flight as far as possible in his own words, dictated to 
Pepys at Newmarket, on Sunday, 3 October, and Tuesday, 
the 5th, I680. 1 

1 The ensuing account is almost entirely in the words of the King's and other 
relations of the flight (see Preface). The King's own words are in inverted 
commas, such other quotations as are thus distinguished being in square brackets. 
For the whole period of the exile, besides original authorities referred to in the 
notes, cf. Miss Eva Scott's admirable monographs : The King in Exile (1905) ; 
The Trawls of the King (1907) ; and Rupert, Prince Palatine (1900). 




Sidbury Gate St. Martin's Gate Barbourne Bridge Kinver Edge 
Whiteladies Hobbal Grange A night walk At Mr. Woolfe's 
Back at Boscobel Royal Oak Mr. Whitgreave of Moseley and Mr. 
Huddleston At Bentleywith Colonel Lane The ride to Bristol The 
blacksmith befooled Charles and the Meat-Jack The King dis- 
covered at Bristol He goes to Colonel Wyndham's at Trent Jane 
Lane Charmouth Bridport Broadwindsor Heale House, Salis- 
bury The ride to Brighton The "George" at Brighton Mine 
host The skipper Charles lands at Fecamp Rouen Paris. 

" A FTER that the battle was so absolutely lost, as 
/ \ to be beyond hope of recovery, I began to 
^ V think of the best way of saving myself; and 
the first thought that came into my head was, that, if I 
could possibly, I would get to London, as soon, if not 
sooner, than the news of our defeat could get thither : and 
it being dark, I talked with some, especially with my Lord 
Rochester, who was then Wilmot, about their opinions 
which would be the best way for me to escape, it being 
impossible, as I thought, to get back into Scotland. I 
found them mightily distracted, and their opinions different, 
of the possibility of getting to Scotland, but not one 
agreeing with mine, for going to London, saving my Lord 
Wilmot ; and the truth is, I did not impart my design of 
going to London to any but my Lord Wilmot. But we 
had such a number of beaten men with us, of the horse, 
that I strove, as soon as ever it was dark, to get from 
them : and though I could not get them to stand by me 
against the enemy, I could not get rid of them, now I had 


a mind to it. So we, that is, my Lord Duke of Bucking- 
ham, Lauderdale, Derby, Wilmot, Tom Blague, Duke 
Darcey, and several others of my servants, went along 
northwards towards Scotland ; and at last we got about 
sixty that were gentlemen and officers, and slipt away out 
of the highroad that goes to Lancastershire, and kept on the 
right-hand, letting all the beaten men go along the great 
road, and ourselves not knowing very well which way to 
go, for it was then too late for us to get to London, on 
horseback, riding directly for it, nor could we do it, because 
there was yet many people of quality with us that I could 
not get rid of." [Guided by Richard Walker, one of Lord 
Talbot's troopers, they rode by Barnhali and Ombersley 
towards Hartlebury, then by Chester Lane and Green Hill 
to Broadwaters, across Lea Castle Park, over the Stour by 
Blakeshall, to Kinver Edge. At Round Hill, Kinver, a 
second halt was made, and Lord Derby suggested his own 
place of refuge, Boscobel ; towards this place Mr. Charles 
Giffard and one Yates, a servant, led the way.] " So we 
rode through a town short of Woolverhampton, betwixt 
that and Worcester, and went through, there lying a troop 
of the enemies there that night. We rode very quietly 
through the town, they having nobody to watch, nor they 
suspecting us no more than we did them, which I learned 
afterwards from a country fellow." [Two miles out of 
Stourbridge, near Wordsley Church, is an old red-brick 
gabled house where a minute's halt was made and "his 
majesty drank, and ate a crust of bread, the house affording 
no better provision." 1 As the King rode on, "he dis- 
coursed with Colonel Roscarrock touching Boscobel 
House and the means of security which the Earl of Derby 
and he found at that place." The troop of Cavaliers 
probably rode now by Himley through Wombourne and 
the Wrottesley Woods to Brewood Forest and White- 
ladies.] " We went that night about twenty miles, to a 

1 In France, Charles said that he rode with bread in one hand and meat in 
the other. 


place called Whiteladys, hard by Tong- Castle, by the 
advice of Mr. Giffard, where we slept." [George Penderel 
opened the door and seeing Yates, asked news of the 
battle, and the rest pressed into the house. " After his 
Majesty and his lords were entered the house, his Majesties 
horse was brought into the hall, and by this time it was 
about break of day on Thursday morning." Here the 
travellers] "got some little refreshment of bread and 
cheese, such as we could get. . . . And just as we came 
thither, there came in a country-fellow, that told us, 
there were three thousand of our horse just hard by 
Tong-Castle, upon the heath, all in disorder, under David 
Leslie, and some other of the general officers : upon which 
there were some of the people of quality that were with 
me, who were very earnest that I should go to him and 
endeavour to go into Scotland ; which I thought was abso- 
lutely impossible, knowing very well that the country 
would all rise upon us, and that men who had deserted me 
when they were in good order, would never stand to me 
when they have been beaten." ["Mr. Giffard presently 
sent for Richard Penderel who lived near hand at Hobbal 
Grange, and Colonel Roscarrock caused Bartholomew 
Martin, a boy in the house, to be sent to Boscobel for 
William Penderel ; meantime Mris. Giffard brought his 
Majesty some sack and bisket. Richard came first and 
was immediately sent back to bring a suit of his clothes 
for the King, and by that time he arrived with them, 
William came, and both were brought into the parlour to 
the Earl of Derby, who immediately carried them into an 
inner parlour (where the King was) and told William 
Penderel 'This is the King' (pointing to his Majesty); 
' thou must have a care of him and preserve him as thou 
didst me';< and Mr. Giffard did also conjure Richard to 
have a special care of his charge, to which commands the 
two brothers yielded ready obedience. Whilst Richard 
and William were thus sent for, his Majesty had been 
advised to rub his hands on the back of the chimney and 


with them his face, for a disguise ; and my Lord Wilmot 
cut his hair, untowardly notching it with a knife. His 
Majesty put off his garter, blue ribband, George of 
diamonds, buff coat, and other princely ornaments, (also a 
linen doublet and a pair of grey breeches) ; he gave his 
watch to the custody of the Lord Wilmot, his George to 
Colonel Blague, and distributed the gold he had in his 
pocket among his servants. The King then proceeded 
nimbly to put on the disguise, being a shirt borrowed from 
Edward Martin who lived in the house, Richard Penderel's 
jump and breeches of coarse green cloth, and doeskin 
leather doublet, a hat of Humphrey Penderel the miller's, 
George Penderel's band, and William Cresswell's shoes. 1 
Then Richard came with a pair of shears and rounded the 
King's hair ; and the King was pleased to take notice of 
his good barbering, so as to prefer his work before my 
Lord Wilmot's ; and now his Majesty was a la mode the 
woodman. He had not time to be so exactly disguised 
as afterwards ; for both William and Richard Penderel 
did advertise the company to make haste away in regard 
there was a troop of rebels, commanded by Colonel Ashen- 
hurst, quartered at Cotsal but 3 miles distant, some of 
which troop came to the house within half an hour after 
the dissolution of the royal troop. Presently the lords 
took their heavy leave and departed, every one shifting for 
himself," 2 ] " I acquainting none with my resolution of going 
to London but my Lord Wilmot, they all desiring me not 
to acquaint them with what I intended to do, because 
they knew not what they might be forced to confess ; on 
which consideration they, with one voice, begged of 
me not to tell them what I intended to do. So all 
the persons of quality and officers who were with me, 

1 Charles says : " I . . . flung my cloaths into a privy-house, that nobody 
might see that anybody had been stripping themselves." But in the Trtie 
Narrative we are told that the Penderels buried them, and dug them up after 
five weeks. 

2 Derby was taken and beheaded ; Buckingham got safe to Rotterdam ; 
Wilmot accompanied Charles through most of his wanderings. 


(except my Lord Wilmot, with whom a place was agreed 
upon for our meeting at London, if we escaped, and 
who endeavoured to go on horse-back, in regard, as I 
think, of his being too big to go on foot,) were resolved 
to go and join with the three thousand disordered horse, 
thinking to get away with them to Scotland. But, 
as I did before believe, they were not marched six 
miles, after they got to them, but they were all routed 
by a single troop of horse ; which shews that my opinion 
was not wrong in sticking to men who had run away." 
[" The company being departed, a wood-bill was brought 
and put into the king's hand, and Richard Penderel led 
him out at a back door, and carried him into an adjacent 
wood belonging to Boscobel, called Spring Coppice, about 
half a mile from Whiteladies ; whilst William went home, 
and Humphrey and George were scouting abroad to bring 
what news they could learn to his Majesty in the coppice, 
as occasion required."] "Richard Penderell . . . was a 
Roman Catholic, and I chose to trust them, because I knew 
they had hiding-holes for priests, that I thought I might 
make use of in case of need. I was no sooner gone (being 
the next morning after the battle, and then broad day) out 
of the house with this country-fellow, but being in a great 
wood I set myself at the edge of the wood, near the high- 
way that was there, the better to see who came after us> 
and whether they made any search after the runaways, and 
I immediately saw a troop of horse coming by, which I con- 
ceived to be the same troop that beat our three thousand 
horse ; but it did not look like a troop of the army's, but of 
the militia, for the fellow before it did not look at all like a 
soldier." [" But the king had not been an hour in the wood 
before a troop of horse of the enemy's came to Whiteladies, 
and enquired if some of the king's horse and himself 
passed not that way, and if they could give any information 
of him. To which the town folks answered, that about 
three hours ago there was a party of horse came thither, 
and they supposed the king with them, but they made no 


stay in the village, but presently departed. They were 
hereupon so eager in the pursuit, they followed the route 
and made no further search there. The King straight 
heard this, by the two aforesaid scouts, who straggled for 
intelligence into the town."] " In this wood I staid all day, 
without meat or drink ; and by great good fortune it rained 
all the time, which hindered them as I believe, from coming 
into the wood to search for men that might be fled thither. 
And one thing is remarkable enough, that those with whom 
I have since spoken, of them that joined with the horse 
upon the heath, did say, that it rained little or nothing with 
them all the day, but only in the wood, where I was, this 
contributing to my safety." [" The thickest tree in the 
wood was not able to keep his Majesty dry, nor was there 
any thing for him to sit on : thereupon Francis Yates' wife 
came into the wood, and brought the king a blanket, 
which she threw over his shoulders to keep him dry, 
and Richard went to her house and brought another 
which he folded and laid on the ground for the King 
to sit on. At the same time, Richard spoke to the good- 
wife Yates, to provide some victuals, and she brought 
the king his first meat to eat there, viz., a mess of milk, 
eggs, and sugar, in a black earthen cup, which the king 
guessed to be milk and apples, and said he loved it very 
well. After he had drunk some of it, and eaten part in 
a pewter spoon, he gave the rest to George, 1 and bid him 
eat, for it was very good. But his Majesty was a little 
surpriz'd to see the woman (no good concealer of a secret) 
and said cheerfully to her, ' Good woman, can you be faith- 
full to a distressed cavalier ? ' She answered, ' Yes, sir, 
I will die rather than discover you,' with which answer his 
Majesty was well satisfied. There was nothing of moment 
passed this day in court, but only the King exchanged his 
wood-bill for Francis Yates' broom-hook, which was some- 
thing lighter. They had much ado all that day to teach 
and fashion his Majesty to their country guise, and to order 
1 Richard ? Or was George present at the time, reporting ? 


his steps and straight body to a lobbing Jobson's gait, and 
were forced every foot to mind him of it ; for the language, 
his Majesty's most gracious converse with his people in his 
journey to, and at Worcester, had rendered it very easy and 
very tuneable to him." l ] " As I was in the wood, I talked 
with the fellow about getting towards London ; and ask- 
ing him many questions, about what gentlemen he knew ; 
I did not find he knew any man of quality in the way 
towards London. And the truth is, my mind changed as 
I lay in the wood, and I resolved of another way of 
making my escape ; which was, to get over Severn into 
Wales, and so get either to Swansey, or some other of 
the seatowns that I knew had commerce with France, to 
the end I might get over that way, that I thought none 
would suspect my taking; besides that, I remembered 
several honest gentlemen that were of my acquaintance in 
Wales." [About five o'clock that evening, the King, with the 
retinue of Richard, Humphrey, George, and Francis Yates, 
left the wood, and betook himself to Richard's house, 
Hobbal Grange, where he went under the name of William 
Jones, a wood-cutter, newly come thither for work. 
Against his coming, the good wife for his entertainment 
for supper was preparing a fricasy of bacon and eggs ; 
and whilst that was doing, the King held on his knee their 
daughter Nan. After he had eat a little, he asked Richard 
to eat, who replied : " Yea, sir, I will " ; whereto his 
Majesty answered : " You have a better stomach than I, 
for you have eaten five times to-day already." 2 After 
supper ended, the King, according to his resolution to 
pass into Wales, proposed when it should be dusky, to 
depart. Before he went, Jane Penderel, mother of the 
five brethren, came to see the King, before whom she 

1 If this means that Charles could speak the dialect, it contradicts what he 
himself says later : " The country-fellow desired me not to answer if anybody 
should ask me any questions, because I had not the accent of the country." 

2 Note that Charles says : " Memorandum, that I got some bread and 
cheese the night before at one of the PenderelPs houses, I not going in." 


blessed God that had so honoured her children in making 
them the instruments, as she hoped, of his Majesty's 
safeguard and deliverance. Here Francis Yates offered 
the King thirty shillings in silver ; the King accepted ten, 
and bid him put the other up. Humphrey would have 
gone before to see and view about, but the King would not 
let him. It being now near night, they took their leave of 
the King upon their knees, beseeching God to guide and 
bless him. When the night was dark, Richard Penderel 
and the King walked through the wood into those enclo- 
sures which were farthest from any highway, and making 
a shift to get over hedges and ditches ] " towards the 
Severn, intending to pass over a ferry, half way between 
Bridgenorth and Shrewsbury. But as we were going in the 
night we came by a mill l where I heard some people talk- 
ing, and as we conceived it was about twelve or one o'clock 
at night, 2 and the country-fellow desired me not to answer 
if any body should ask me any questions, because I had 
not the accent of the country. Just as we came to the 
mill, we could see the miller, as I believed, sitting at the 
mill door, he being in white cloaths, it being a very dark 
night. He called out, ' Who goes there ? ' [having a 
quarter-staff or a good cudgel in his hand.] " Upon which 
Richard Penderel answered, ' Neighbours going home,' or 
some such like words. 3 Whereupon the miller cried out, 
1 if you be neighbours, stand, or I will knock you down.' 
Upon which, we believing there was company in the house, 
the fellow bade me follow him close " ; [and the water being 
shallow, he leapt off the bridge into it, and the King did 
the like, following Richard by the noise and rattling of his 
leathern breeches ;] " and he run to a gate that went up a 
dirty lane, up a hill, and opening the gate, the miller cried 
out, ' Rogues ! Rogues ! ' And thereupon some men came 

1 Evelith Mill. 

2 In reality, about nine o'clock. 

" To which Richard, being foremost, thought it not safe to reply " (True 


out of the mill after us, which I believed was soldiers l : so 
we fell a running, both of us, up the lane, as long as we 
could run, it being very deep, and very dirty, till at last I 
bade him leap over a hedge, and lie still to hear if any body 
followed us ; which we did, and continued lying down 
upon the ground about half an hour, when, hearing nobody 
come we continued our way on to the village upon the 
Severn ; " 2 [" This was so grievous a march, and he was so 
tired that he was even ready to despair, and to prefer being 
taken and suffered to rest, before purchasing his safety at 
such a price. His shoes had after a few miles hurt him so 
much that he had thrown them away and walked the rest 
of the way in his ill stockings, which were quickly worn out ; 
and his feet with the thorns in getting over hedges and 
with the stones in other places, were so hurt, and wounded, 
that he many times cast himself upon the ground, with a 
desperate and obstinate resolution to rest there till the 
morning, that he might shift with less torment what 
hazard soever he run. But his stout guide still prevailed 
with him to make a new attempt, sometimes promising 
that the way should be better, and sometimes assuring 
him that he had little farther to go ; and in this distress 
and perplexity, before the morning they arrived at the 
house designed after the walking a few miles ; "] " where 
the fellow told me there was an honest gentleman, one 
Mr. Woolfe, where I might be with great safety ; for that 
he had hiding-holes for priests. But I would not go in 
till I knew a little of his mind, whether he would receive 
so dangerous a guest as me ? and therefore stayed in a 
field, under a hedge, by a great tree, commanding him not 
to say it was I ; but only to ask Mr. Woolfe, whether he 
would receive an English gentleman, a person of quality, 

1 "The miller being glad he was so rid of them, for (as it afterwards 
appeared) here were some of the King's scattered soldiers in his mill, and he 
supposed the other to be Parliamentarians that were upon the scent for his 
distressed guests" (True Narrative). 

2 " Mr. Francis Woolfe lived at Madely " (Huddleston). 


to hide him the next day, till we could travel again by 
night, for I durst not go but by night. Mr. Woolfe, when 
the country-fellow told him that it was one that had 
escaped from the battle of Worcester, said, that for his 
part, it was so dangerous a thing to harbour any body that 
was known, that he would not venture his neck for any 
man, unless it were the King himself. Upon which, 
Richard Penderel, very indiscreetly, and without any leave, 
told him that it was I. Upon which Mr. Woolfe replied, 
that he should be very ready to venture all he had in the 
world to secure me. Upon which Richard Penderel came 
and told me what he had done. At which I was a little 
troubled, but then there was no remedy, the day being 
just coming on, and I must either venture that, or run 
some greater danger. So I came into the house a back 
way, where I found Mr. Woolfe, an old gentleman, who 
told me he was very sorry to see me there ; because there 
was two companies of the militia foot, at that time, in 
arms in the town, and kept a guard at the ferry, to 
examine every body that came that way, in expectation 
of catching some that might be making their escape that 
way ; and that he durst not put me into any of the hiding- 
holes of his house, because they had been discovered, and 
consequently if any search should be made, they would 
certainly repair to these holes ; and that therefore I had 
no other way of security but to go into his barn, and there 
lye behind his corn and hay. So after he had given us 
some cold meat, that was ready, we, without making any 
bustle in the house, went and lay in the barn all the next 
day ; when towards evening, his son, who had been prisoner 
at Shrewsbury, an honest man, was released and came 
home to his father's house. And as soon as ever it began 
to be a little darkish, Mr. Woolfe and his son brought us 
meat into the barn ; and there we discoursed with them, 
whether we might safely get over the Severn into Wales ; 
which they advised me by no means to adventure upon, 
because of the strict guards that were kept all along the 


Severn, where any passage could be found, for preventing 
any body's escaping that way into Wales. Upon this I 
took the resolution of going that night the very same 
way back again to Penderell's house, where I knew I 
should hear some news, what was become of my Lord 
Wilmot, and resolved again upon going for London." 
["The day being over, his Majesty adventured to come 
again into the house, where, his Majesty's hands not ap- 
pearing sufficiently discoloured, suitable to his other dis- 
guise, Mrs. Woolf provided walnut-tree leaves, 1 as the 
readiest expedient for that purpose. Having for some time 
refreshed himself, and being furnished with conveniences 
for his journey, 2 (which was conceived to be safer on foot 
than by horse) the King with his faithful guide Richard 
and a maid of the house, who brought them two miles on 
their way,"] " set out again as soon as it was dark. But, 
as we came by the mill again, we had no mind to be 
questioned a second time there ; and therefore asking 
Richard Penderell whether he could swim or no ? and how 
deep the river was ? he told me, it was a scurvy river, not 
easy to be past in all places, and that he could not swim. 
So I told him, that the river being but a little one, I would 
undertake to help him over. Upon which we went over 
some closes to the river-side, and I entering the river first, to 
see whether I could myself go over, who knew how to swim, 
found it was but a little above my middle ; and thereupon 
taking Richard Penderell by the hand I helped him over." 
[" About three of the clock on Saturday morning, being 
come near the house, Richard went in to see if any 
soldiers were there, or other danger, where he found 
Colonel William Carlis (who had seen, not the last man 
born, but the last man killed, at Worcester), and who, 
having with much difficulty made his escape from thence, 3 

1 Decoction of galls ? 

2 Mr. Woolfe lent his Majesty some small sum of money ; and a pair of 
green yarn stockings. 

3 Cf. Exact Narrative and Relation , etc., 1660. 


was got into his own neighbourhood, and for some time 
concealing himself in Boscobel Wood, was come that 
morning to the house, to get some relief of William 
Penderel, his old acquaintance. Richard having acquainted 
the Colonel that the King was in the wood, the Colonel, 
with William and Richard go presently thither to give 
their attendance, where they find his Majesty sitting on 
the root of a tree ; and the Colonel was so overjoyed with 
the sight of the King his master, in such sure and safe 
hands, that he could not refrain weeping, and the King 
himself was moved with the same passion, and came with 
them into the house, 1 where he eat bread and cheese heartily, 
and (as an extraordinary), William Penderel's wife made 
his Majesty a posset of thin milk and small beer, and got 
ready some warm water to wash his feet, not only extreme 
dirty, but much galled with travail. The Colonel pulled 
off his Majesty's shoes, which were full of gravel, and 
stockings, which were very wet ; and William's wife cut 
the blisters, washed the feet, and gave his Majesty some 
ease. There being no other shoes in the house that would 
fit him, the good-wife put some hot embers in those to dry 
them, whilst his Majesty's feet were washing and his 
stockings shifted. Being thus a little refreshed, Colonel 
Carless "J "told me that it would be very dangerous for me 
either to stay in that house or to go into the wood ; there 
being a great wood hard by Boscobel " [" for though there 
was a highway near one side of it where the King had 
entered into it, yet it was large, and all other sides of it 
opened amongst enclosures."] ; " that he knew but one way 
how to pass the next day, and that was, to get up into a 

1 Charles says, " When I came to this house, I inquired where my Lord 
Wilmot was ; it being now towards morning, Penderell's brother told me, that 
he had conducted him to a very honest gentleman's house, one Mr. Pitchcroft 
[Whitgreave], not far from Wolverhampton, [at Moseley], a Roman Catholic. 
I asked him, what news? He told me, that there was one Major Careless in 
the house," etc. Charles probably confuses the house of John Penderel, which 
was Whiteladies, where he inquired for Wilmot, and that of William, where 
he found Carlos. 


great oak, in a pretty plain place, where we might see 
round about us ; for the enemy would certainly search at 
the wood for people that had made their escape." 
["Accordingly about nine of the clock that Saturday 
morning, the 6 September, they went into the wood, 
and Colonel Carless brought the King to that oak, where 
before he had himself been lodged. This tree is not 
hollow, but of a sound, firm trunk, only about the middle 
of the body of it there is a hole in it, about the bigness of 
a man's head, from whence it absurdly and abusively (in 
respect to its deserved perpetual growth, to outlast time 
itself) is called hollow ; and by the help of William 
Penderell's ladder they got up into the boughs and 
branches of the tree, which were very thick and well- 
spread, full of leaves, and lined and covered with ivy ; for 
it "] " had been lopt some three or four years before, and 
being grown out again, very bushy and thick, could not be 
seen through." [" When they were both up, William gave 
them up two pillows to lie upon between the thickest of 
the branches, and the King, being over-wearied with travel 
and his sore journey, began to be very sleepy. The 
Colonel, to accommodate him the best he could, desired 
his Majesty to lay his head in his lap, and rest the other 
parts of his body upon the pillow, which the King did ; 
whilst his Majesty was thus sleeping, he chanced so to rest 
his head upon one of the arms of the Colonel, that by 
compressing the nervous parts of it, it caused such a stupor 
or numbness in the part, that he had scarcely strength left 
in it any longer to support his Majesty from falling off the 
tree, neither durst he by reason of the nearness of the 
enemy (now hunting so greedily after him) speak so loud 
as to awake him ; nevertheless, to avoid both the danger 
of the fall and the surprise together, he was (though 
unwillingly) constrained to practice so much incivility (as 
I was credibly informed by a worthy person who received 
this information from the Colonel's own mouth), as to 
pinch his Majesty to the end he might awake him to 


prevent his present danger. After the King had taken a 
good nap (William and his wife Joan still peaking up and 
down, 1 and she commonly near the place, with a neet- 
hook in her hand, gathering of sticks), he awaked very 
hungry, and wished he had something to eat, whereupon the 
Colonel plucked out of his pocket a good luncheon of 
bread and cheese (which Joan Penderel had given him for 
provant for that day, and had wrapped it up in a clean 
linen cloth), of which the King fed very heartily, and was 
well pleased with the service, and commended highly his 
good cheer ; and some other small relief he had which was 
put up in the tree with a long hook-stick."] " Memorandum, 
that while we were in this tree we see soldiers going up 
and down, in the thicket of the wood, searching for persons 
escaped, we seeing them, now and then, peeping out of the 
wood." [" they heard all the discourse how they would use 
the King himself if they could take him."] " I having, in 
the meantime, sent [Richard Penderel] to Mr. [Whit- 
greave's], to know whether my Lord Wilmot was there or 
no, and had word brought me by him, at night, that my 
Lord was there ; that there was a very secure hiding-hole 
in Mr. [Whitgreave's] house, and that he desired me to 
come thither to him. I did not depend upon rinding Lord 
Wilmot, but sent only to know what was become of him ; 
for he and I had agreed to meet at London, at the Three 
Cranes in theVintry, and to enquire for Will Ashburnham." 
[" Richard Penderel was sent to Wolverhampton, some 
seven miles distant, to buy wine and biscuit and some 
other necessary refreshments for the King, and withal to 
speak with one Mr. George Manwaring (a person of 
known integrity and loyalty) from Colonel Careless, with 
some instructions about the King's removal, though not 
expressly the King, but one of that ruined party. In 

1 A warrant was issued in 1663 " for 100 for Joan Pendrell, the person 
who gathered sticks and diverted the horsemen from the oak his Majesty was 
in" (Calendar of State Papers, lojuly, 1663; and Allan Fea's Flight of the 
King, p. 55). 


effect it was to know of him whether he knew of any sure 
privacy for two such persons ; to which he answered he had 
not himself, but would inquire if a friend of his, one Mr. 
Whitgreave, of Moseley, could do it. Then Richard 
returned with his wine, etc., to the King, who, towards 
evening, came down by the same ladder from the tree, 
and was brought into the garden of Boscobel House, 
where he sat in the bower of it, and drank part of the 
wine, till towards night. Neither was Humphrey Penderel, 
the miller, unemployed all this while, but was sent to get 
intelligence how things went. And the easier to come by 
it, he was sent to a captain of the Rump, one Broadway, 
at Shifnal, formerly a heel-maker, under pretence of carry- 
ing him twenty shillings for the pay of a man in the 
new-raised militia of their county, for their mistress. 
While he was there, in came a colonel of the rebels, and 
asked for Captain Broadway, on purpose to know what 
further enquiry had been made at Whiteladies for the 
King, relating Broadway the story of it, to which he 
replied that he knew nothing of it further than rumour, 
but that there was one of that place in the house that 
could give him an account of it. So Humphrey was 
called, and several questions put to him, which he evaded, 
but confessed that the King had been there, as was 
supposed, but there was no likelihood for him to stay 
there, for there were three l families in the house, and all 
at difference with one another. The colonel told him 
there was a thousand pounds offered to any that would 
take or discover him ; that the penalty for concealing him 
was death without mercy ; and that they doubted not but 
within a day or two to have him delivered into their 
hands. These tidings Humphrey brought with him, and 
omitted not to tell his Majesty of the price the rebels had 
set on him ; at the telling of which the King looked some- 
thing dismayed, as having trusted his life into the hands 

1 Five, according to another account. 




of so poor men, whom such a sum as that (though both 
detestable and of inconsiderable value to the purchase) 
might pervert from their allegiance and fidelity, which made 
Humphrey to be exceedingly troubled for his rashness, 
while Colonel Carless assured the King, ' If it were an 
hundred thousand pounds, it were to no more purpose, 
and that he would engage his soul for their truth ' ; which 
Humphrey also with many urgent asseverations did 
succeed. His Majesty now finding himself in a hopeful 
security, permitted William Penderel to shave him, and 
cut the hair off his head as short at the top as scissors 
would do it, but leaving some about the ears, according to 
the country mode ; Colonel Carless attending, told his 
Majesty, William was but a mean barber, to which his 
Majesty answered, he had never been shaved by any 
barber before. The King bad William burn the hair which 
he cut off; but William was only disobedient in that, for he 
kept a good part of it, wherewith he has since pleasured 
some persons of honour, and is kept as a civil relique. 
This night the goodwife (whom his Majesty was pleased 
to call ' my Dame Joan ') provided some chickens for his 
Majesty's supper ; and a little pallet was put into the 
secret place for his Majesty to rest in, some of the brothers 
being continually upon duty, watching the avenues of the 
house and the roadway, to prevent the danger of a surprise. 
After supper, Colonel Carless asked his Majesty what meat 
he would please to have provided for the morrow, being 
Sunday ; the King desired some mutton, if it might be 
had. But it was thought dangerous for William to go to 
any market to buy it, since his neighbours all knew he did 
not use to buy such for his own diet, and so it might beget 
a suspicion of his having strangers at his house. But the 
Colonel found another expedient to satisfy his Majesty's 
desires. Early on Sunday morning he repairs to Mr. 
William Staunton's sheep-cote, who rented some of the 
demesnes of Boscobel ; here he chose one of the best 
sheep, sticks him with his dagger, then sends William for 


the mutton, who brings him home on his back. 1 The King 
slept very incommodiously, with little or no rest, for the 
place 2 was not large enough for him ; and on Sunday 
morning, 7 September, his Majesty got up early, and near 
the place where he lay, had the convenience of a gallery 
to walk in, where he was observed to spend some time in 
his devotions, and where he had the advantage of a window 
which surveyed the road from Tong to Brewood. Soon 
after his Majesty coming down into the parlour, his nose 
fell a-bleeding, which put his poor faithful servants into a 
great fright ; but his Majesty was pleased soon to remove 
it, by telling them it often did so. As soon as the mutton 
was cold, William cut it up and brought a leg of it into 
the parlour ; 3 his Majesty called for a knife and a trencher, 
and cut some of it into collops, and pricked them with the 
knife's point ; then called for a frying-pan and butter, and 
fried the collops himself, of which he ate heartily ; Colonel 
Carless the while being but under-cook (and that honour 
enough too), made the fire, and turned the collops in the 
pan. This passage yielded the King a pleasant jocular 
discourse after his arrival in France, when it amounted to 
a question, a very difficult case, who was cook, and who 
was scullion ? And the solution of the doubt, when it 
could not be decided by the lords then present, was referred 
to the judgment of his Majesty's master-cook, who affirmed 
that the King was (hie et mine) both of them. 4 His 
Majesty spent some part of this Lord's Day in reading the 

1 The Trw Narrative says, William brought one of the sheep into the 
ground-cellar, where the Colonel stuck it with his dagger. "And when 
William came down, they hung it upon a door and flayed it, and brought up 
a hind-quarter to the king." 

* Apparently a small hole, entered by a small square trap-door in the floor 
of the garret, gallery, or cheese-room. (Fea.) 

* " The danger being over, honest William began to think of making satis- 
faction for the fat mutton, and accordingly tendered Mr. Staunton its worth 
in money ; but Staunton, understanding the sheep was killed for the relief of 
some honest Cavaliers, refused to take the money, but wished, much good 
might it do them." (Blount's Boscobel.) 

4 " The supremacy was of right adjudged to his Majesty." (Blount.) 


Scriptures, in a pretty arbour in Boscobel garden, which 
grew upon a mount, and wherein there was a stone table, 
and seats about it, and commended the place for its retired- 
ness. 1 That night, they laid the King a sorry bed upon the 
stair-case, that the meanness of his lodgings might secure 
him from suspicion. Now his Majesty intended going to 
my Lord Wilmot at Moseley, and sent John Penderel to 
tell my lord so, on Sunday morning, but he found my 
lord gone to Bentley, yet with Mr. Whitgreave and Mr. 
Huddleston he went to Bentley and my Lord desired 
Mr. Whitgreave to meet him at twelve that night, and 
Mr. Huddleston to name a place where he would meet his 
Majesty about one o'clock, the same night. John Penderel 
returned to Boscobel with this information, in the after- 
noon. Sunday night, at eleven o'clock, was the time 
appointed for the King's departure to Moseley, and as the 
King's feet were too bad to walk, a horse was to be found. 
John was ordered to borrow one of one Stanton 2 of Hatton, 
but he had lent his out before ; when the Colonel remem- 
bered that Humphrey the miller had one, and he there- 
upon was called and desired to lend him for the King's 
service. It was a kind of war-horse that had carried many 
a load of provisions and such like, but now he put upon 
him a bridle, and saddle that had outworn his tree and 
irons, and at the time prefixed brought him to the gate. 
As soon as the King had notice of it, out he came, and 
would have had none but Colonel Carless and John to 
have gone along with him ; but the Colonel humbly took 
leave of him, being so well known in the country, that his 
attendance upon his Majesty would in all probability 
have proved rather a disservice than otherwise ; however, 
his hearty prayers were not wanting for his Majesty's 
preservation. Colonel Carless and John told his Majesty 
it was dangerous to venture himself with only two, and 
therefore entreated him that he would give all the rest 

1 It was probably not here, but at the stone table in the wood. (Fea.) 
* = Mr. Staunton, who owned the sheep ? 


leave to go with him, which he granted. Thus then his 
Majesty was mounted, and thus he rode towards Moseley, 
attended by William, John, Richard, and George Penderel, 
and Francis Yates ; each of these took a bill or pike-staff 
on his back, and some of them had pistols in their pockets ; 
two marched before, one on each side of his Majesty's 
horse, and two came behind aloof off ; Humphrey leading 
his horse by the bridle. They conducted his Majesty 
through byways : it was nine or ten miles from Boscobel 
to Moseley, and the way in some places miry, where the 
horse blundering caused the King to suspect falling, and 
to complain that ' it was the heaviest dull jade he ever rode 
on ' and bid Humphrey have a care, to which Humphrey 
answered, 'That that now fortunate horse had carried 
many a heavier weight in his time, six strike of corn 
(which measure the King understood not), but now he had 
a better price on his back, the price of three kingdoms, 
and therefore would not now shame his master.' Their 
travel was soon and safe ended, and the King brought the 
back way to a stile that led to the house, at Pendeford 
Mill, about two miles from Moseley : Humphrey led the 
horse into a ditch, and the King alighted off upon the stile ; 
and then William, Humphrey, and George were returning 
with the horse, and his Majesty forgetting this, was gone 
five or six steps onward, without taking leave of them ; 
but recalling himself, returned and said : ' I am troubled 
that I forget to take my leave of my friends ; but if ever 
I come into England, by fair or foul means, I will 
remember you, and let me see you, whenever it shall so 
please God.' 1 Richard, John, and Francis then took his 
Majesty the rest of the way. Now Mr. Whitgreave 

1 " He called to them and said : { My troubles make me forget myself. I 
thank you all ! ' and gave them his hand to kiss." (Blount's Soscobel.) There 
is a story that William Penderel, after the Restoration, came to London, met 
the King walking in St. James' Park, ran up and took him by the arm ; Charles 
asked who he was, and being told, immediately told Ormonde to see him 
well provided for. The brothers were afterwards introduced to the King at 
Court, where he familiarly conversed with them. (Fea.) 


awaited and met my Lord Wilmot at a close called 
Allports Leasow,' and Mr. Huddleston awaited the King 
at the Moor Close. The King was two hours later than 
the appointed time, 1 and Mr. Whitgreave, at my Lord's 
request, went down into the orchard to look for them, and 
presently saw them coming up the Long Walk, and 
speedily acquainted my Lord, who desired him to stay at 
the orchard door, and shew them the way to the stairs, 
where my Lord expected them with a light. When his 
Majesty came to the door with his guards, he was so 
habited like one of them, that Mr. Whitgreave could not 
tell which was he, only he knew all the rest ; he could 
scarce put off his hat to him, but he discovering by the 
light the stairs immediately went to them, where his lord- 
ship expected him, and took him up to his chamber. My 
lord kneeled and embraced his Majesty's knees, who 
kissed my lord on the cheek, and asked him earnestly, 
' What is become of Buckingham, Cleveland, and others ? ' 
To which my Lord could give little satisfaction, but hoped 
they were safe. Meanwhile Mr. Whitgreave took the 
Penderels into the buttery to eat and drink, in order to 
despatch them away, and secure the house : but ere he 
had done, Mr. Huddleston comes down, desiring him to 
come up, which accordingly he did, and coming in at the 
chamber door, his Majesty and my Lord being both at a 
cupboard's head nigh to it, talking, his Lordship said to 
Mr. Whitgreave : ' This gentleman under disguise, whom 
I have hitherto concealed, is both your master, mine, and 
the master of us all, to whom we all owe our duty and 
allegiance " ; not knowing that they understood it was the 
King, whereupon his Majesty was pleased to give them 
his hand to kiss, and bid them arise, and said he had 
received from my Lord such a character of their loyalty 
and readiness in those dangers to assist him and his 
friends, that he never would be unmindful of me and 
mine ; and the next word after was, ' Where is the private 

1 I.e. about 3 a.m. 


place my lord tells me of?' which being already prepared 
and shewed him, he went into it, and when come forth, 
said it was the best place he was ever in. He then 
entered my Lord's bedchamber, and sat down on the bed- 
side, and Mr. Whitgreave give him a little biscuit-bread 
and a glass of sac. While he thus sat, his nose fell a- 
bleeding, and he then took out of his pocket an old coarse 
clout, which the Penderels had given him instead of a 
handkerchief. Mr. Huddlestone then gave him a fair 
handkerchief, and kept the bloody clout to himself, and 
afterwards gave it to his kinswoman, Mrs. Brathwayte, 
who kept it with great veneration, as a remedy for the 
King's Evil. His Majesty at this time wore a long, white 
steeple-crowned hat, without any other lining than grease, 
both sides of the brim so doubled with handling that they 
looked like two spouts ; a leathern doe-skin doublet full of 
holes, with pewter buttons and half black with grease 
above the sleeves, collar, and waist ; an old green wood- 
reve's coat, threadbare and patched in most places, with a 
pair of breeches of the same cloth and in the same con- 
dition, the flaps hanging down loose to the middle of his 
legs ; a pair of his own flannel riding stockings with the 
tops cut off, because embroidered ; and a pair of stirrup 
stockings of grey yarn * lent him at Madeley, much darned 
and clouted, especially about the knees. His shoes had 
been cobbled with leather patches both on the soles and 
the seams, and the upper leathers so cut and slashed, to 
adapt them to his feet, that they could no longer defend 
them either from water or dirt. This exotic and deformed 
dress, added to his short hair by the ears, his face coloured 
brown by walnut-tree leaves, 2 and a rough thorn-stick, 
crooked three or four ways, though not very strong, had 
so metamorphosed him he became scarcely discernible 

1 Green? 

2 The Exact Narrative, etc. (1660), says that Mrs. Lane sent the King 
some walnut -leaves, boyled in spring water "for that purpose while he was 
at Mr. Whitgreave's." 


who he was, even 'to those that had been before acquainted 
with his person and conversant with him. After this, the 
King went to the fireside, sat down in a chair, and gave 
Mr. Huddlestone leave to pull off his stockings and shoes, 
stuffed within with white paper, which with walking had 
become rolled between his stockings and his skin, so 
that it had increased the soreness of his skin, already 
inflamed by the wet and gravelly state of the stockings. 
Having cleansed and dried his Majesty's feet with 
warm cloths, and given him new worsted stockings, he 
changed his coarse noggen or hurden shirt, patched at 
the neck and wrists, for a flaxen one of his own. His 
Majesty refused to wear the gloves offered him by Mr. 
Huddleston, and kept his stick in his hand. Being now 
refreshed, the King said cheerfully : ' I am now ready 
for another march, and if it shall please God once more 
to place me in the head of but eight or ten thousand 
good men, of one mind, resolved to fight, I shall 
not doubt to drive these rogues out of my kingdom." 
After an hour or two's discourse with my Lord Wilmot, 
in deliberation of what seemed most expedient in the 
present conjuncture, it being now about five in the morn- 
ing, his Majesty desired to repose on his bed, and the 
Pendrells, all but John, were dismissed home. For the 
better security of his Majesty's retreat, Mr. Whitgreave 
sent forth all his servants betimes in the morning, each to 
their several employments abroad, except the cookmaid, a 
Catholic, who dressed their diet ; and it was further pre- 
tended that Mr. Huddleston had a cavalier friend or 
relation, newly escaped from Worcester, who lay privately 
in his chamber, unwilling to be seen ; so that this grand 
secret was imparted to none in the house but Mr. Whit- 
greave, Mr. Huddleston, and Mr. Whitgreave's mother, 
whom my Lord Wilmot presented to the King ; and she 
kneeling down to kiss hand ; he most graciously saluted 
her, and confided in her. At that time, Mr. Huddleston 
had with him at Moseley, under his tuition, young Sir 


John Preston and two other youths, Mr. Thomas Palin, 
and Mr. Francis Reynolds, nephews to Mr. Whitgreave. 
While the King stayed, they had leave to play, and were 
placed at several windows in the garrets, whence they had 
a prospect of all the passages from all parts of the house* 
with strict charge given them to bring timely notice of 
any, whether soldiers or others, that came near the house ; 
and herein the boys were as exact and vigilant as any senti- 
nel could be on his guard. Sir John Preston one night at 
supper with the other boys said, ' Eat hard, boys, for we 
have been on the life-guard and hard duty this day 
[Monday] ' ; (more truly spoken than he was aware.) It 
is now Monday, in the forenoon, and John is ordered to go 
to Bentley, with directions to Colonel Lane to send my 
Lord's horses at night to Moseley to convey his lordship 
back to Bentley. His Majesty ate constantly in Mr. 
Huddleston's chamber ; Mr. Whitgreave himself handing 
up all the dishes from below stairs to Mr. Huddleston's 
door, and Mr. Huddleston placing them on the table. 
When all things were brought up, old Mrs. Whitgreave was 
called in, add commanded to sit down and carve, whilst 
Mr. Whitgreave and Mr. Huddleston waited. This day 
his Majesty spent partly in reposing and refreshing himself 
from the fatigues of his former journeys and hardships, 
and partly in recapitulating the late transactions, and 
taking a view of the present posture of affairs. He 
recounted his proceedings in Scotland, and described the 
methods of his march thence to Worcester, and he enquired 
how the gentlemen of the county were affected towards 
him, and sent Mr. Whitgreave to Wolverhampton to get 
intelligence of affairs. In the morning, Mr. Whitgreave's 
study door being open, his Majesty was pleased to go in, 
and for diversion to look forth of it into the court and 
common road, whence he had the sight of divers of his own 
poor soldiers, and some of his own regiment. Some of these 
had in their hands pease in straw, gathered from the field- 
sides as they came along ; others were eating cabbage- 


stalks and leaves which were thrown out of gardens into 
the highway, not daring so much as to beg for food ; 
others, again, wounded and maimed, sought for relief at 
the door, whose sores, Mrs. Whitgreave, with great tender- 
ness and charity, dressed. All the night before his Majesty 
lay on the bed, Mr. Huddleston watching within, and Mr. 
Whitgreave without. Before the Lord Wilmot betook 
himself to bed, he conferred with Mr. Whitgreave, and 
says : ' If it should so fall out that the rebels have intelli- 
gence of your harbouring any of the King's party, and 
should therefore put you to any torture for confession, be 
sure you discover me first, which may haply in such a case 
satisfy them, and preserve the King.' At night my Lord 
Wilmot's horses arrived, as was appointed, from Bentley, 
whither his lordship returned, with further directions that 
Colonel Lane should, the next night following, himself bring 
the horses back to Moseley in order to the conveyance of 
his Majesty to Bentley, the King intending to take the 
benefit, proffered to my Lord Wilmot, of Mrs. Jane Lane's 
pass, to quit the country. The next day, Tuesday, the 
King conversed for the most part with Mr. Huddleston, 
Mr. Whitgreave and his mother being employed in the 
discharge of their several duties towards his Majesty's 
accommodation and safeguard below stairs. He was 
pleased to enquire how Roman Catholics lived under the 
present usurped Government. Mr. Huddleston told him 
that they were persecuted both on account of their religion 
and their loyalty ; yet his Majesty should see that they 
did not neglect the duties of their Church ; hereupon he 
carried him upstairs and shewed him the chapel, little, 
but neat and decent. The King, looking respectfully 
upon the altar, and regarding the crucifix and candle- 
sticks upon it, said, he had an altar, crucifix, and silver 
candlesticks of his own, till my Lord of Holland brake 
them, which, added the King, 'he hath now paid for.' 
His Majesty likewise spent some time in perusing Mr. 
Huddleston's books, amongst which, attentively reading a 


short manuscript by Mr. Richard Huddleston, a Benedic- 
tine monk, entitled ' A Short and Plain Way to the Faith 
and Church,' he said : ' I have not seen anything more 
plain and clear upon this subject. The arguments here 
drawn in succession are so conclusive, I do not conceive 
how they can be denied.' He also took a view of Mr. 
Turbervill's catechism, and said, 'it was a pretty book, 
and he would take it along with him.' Mrs. Whitgreave 
was told by a country-man that came to her house, that he 
heard the King, upon his retreat, had beaten his enemies 
at Warrington Bridge, and that there were three Kings 
come in to his assistance ; which story she related to his 
Majesty, who smilingly said : ' Surely they are the three 
Kings of Collen come down from Heaven, for I can imagine 
none else.' This afternoon, Tuesday, the King inclining to 
sleep, on his bed in the parlour chamber, as Mr. Whitgreave 
was watching at the window, one of the neighbours came 
running in, who told the maid soldiers were coming to 
search, who thereupon came running to the stairs' head, 
and cried : ' Soldiers, soldiers are coming ' ; which his 
Majesty hearing, presently started out of his bed and run 
to his privacy, where Mr. Whitgreave secured him the best 
he could, and leaving him, went forth into the street to 
meet the soldiers, who as soon as they saw him, and knew 
who he was, were ready to pull him in pieces, and 
take him away with them, saying he was come from 
Worcester fight ; but after much dispute, and the neigh- 
bours also telling them that he was not there, being very ill 
a great while, they let him go ; but till he saw them clearly 
all gone forth from the town he returned not to release 
the King, and then told him of his stay, which he thought 
long, and then began to be very cheerful again. In the 
interim, while Mr. Whitgreave was disputing with the 
soldiers, one of them called Southall, the great priest- 
catcher and Col. Lane's and Mr. Vernon's true cavalier in 
the plotting time, came in the fold, and asked a smith, as 
he was shoeing horses there, if he could tell where the King 


was, and he should have a thousand pounds for his pains, 
as the smith, called Holbeard, since several times hath 
told Mr. Whitgreave and others. Mr. Whitgreave and 
Mr. Huddleston then attended the King in his chamber. 
Mr. Huddleston, knowing that the King was acquainted 
with his character and function, said : ' Your Majesty is, 
in some sort, in the same condition with me now, liable to 
dangers and perils : but I hope God, that brought you 
hither, will preserve you here, and that you will be as safe 
in this place as in any castle of your dominions.' ..The 
King, addressing himself to both gentlemen, replied : ' If 
it please God I come to my crown, both you and all of 
your persuasion, shall have as much liberty as any of my 
subjects.' At twelve o'clock Mr. Whitgreave went to the 
Colonel, who waited at the place appointed, and took Mr. 
Francis Reynolds with him to hold the horses while the 
Colonel went up to the house with him, who arriving, Mr. 
Whitgreave brought him to the orchard stile, where he stay 1 
and expect till the King came : of which he being 
acquainted, he sent Mr. Whitgreave for his mother to come 
to take leave of him ; who bringing with her some raisins, 
almonds, and other sweet meats, he ate some, and took 
some with him : afterwards, they all kneeling down, and 
praying Almighty God to bless, prosper, and preserve him, 
and begging the King's pardon for any mistakes they 
might have committed in the discharge of their duty, 
through ignorance or inadvertence, his Majesty was 
pleased to salute Mrs. Whitgreave and give her thanks for 
his kind entertainment, and to give his hand to kiss to 
Mr. Huddleston and Mr. Whitgreave, saying if it pleased 
God to restore him, he would never be unmindful of them, 
he took leave and went, conducted by the two gentlemen 
to the colonel, at the corner of the orchard, and thence to 
the horses, where, he having got on horseback, John 
Penderel holding the stirrup, they kneeled, and kissed his 
hand again, offering all prayers for his safety. Mr. 
1 [*./. should stay ?] 


Huddleston, reflecting on the coldness of the season and 
thinness of his Majesty's disguise, asked him to accept of 
his cloak, which his Majesty put on, and wore to Bentley. 
Before he went, his Majesty told them, he was very 
sensible of the dangers they might incur by entertaining 
him, if it should become known to the rebels ; therefore he 
desired them to be very careful of themselves, and gave 
them directions to repair to a Merchant in London, who 
should have order to furnish them with moneys and means 
of conveyance beyond sea, if they thought fit. That night 
the King came to Bentley and was received by Wilmot, 
and after a little meal and conference with my Lord and 
the Colonel, went to bed, and at break of day on 
Wednesday morning was called by the Colonel, who 
brought a new suit and cloak of country grey cloth as 
near as could be contrived like the holiday suit of a 
farmer's son, putting twenty pounds in the pockets for 
journey expenses : here his Majesty quitted his leather 
doublet and green breeches for this new grey suit, and 
forsook his former name Will Jones for that of Will 
Jackson. The King, as a tenant's son, was ordered to 
ride before Mrs. Lane, as her attendant ; Mr. Henry 
Lassels to ride single, and Mr. John Petre of Horton, 
Bucks., and his wife, to ride in the same company ; Mr. 
Petre and his wife little suspecting Will Jackson their 
fellow-traveller to be King of Great Britain. His Majesty 
thus refreshed and thus accoutred with all necessaries for 
a journey in the designed equipage, after he had taken 
leave of my Lord Wilmot, and agreed on their meeting 
within few days after at Mr. George Norton's house at 
Leigh near Bristol, the Colonel conveyed him a back way 
into the stable, where he fitted his stirrups, and gave him 
some instructions for better acting the part of Will Jackson, 
mounted him on a good double gelding, and directed him 
to come to the gate of the house, which he punctually 
performed with his hat under his arm. By this time it 
was twilight, and old Mrs. Lane (who knew nothing of 


this great secret) would needs see her beloved daughter 
take horse, which whilst she was intending, the Colonel 
said to the King, 'Will, thou must give my sister thy 
hand!' But his Majesty (unacquainted with such little 
offices) offered his hand the contrary way, which the old 
gentlewoman taking notice of, laughed, and asked the 
Colonel her son what goodly horseman her daughter had 
got to ride before her." ] " But we had not gone two hours 
on our way but the mare I rode on cast a shoe ; so we were 
forced to ride to get another shoe at a scattering village 

whose name begins with something like Long - 1 And 

as I was holding my horse's foot, I asked the smith what 
news ? He told me, that there was no news, that he knew 
of, since the good news of the beating of the rogues the 
Scots. I asked him, whether there was none of the 
English taken, that joined with the Scots ? He answered, 
that he did not hear that that rogue Charles Stewart was 
taken ; but some of the others, he said, were taken, but not 
Charles Stewart. I told him, that if that rogue were taken, 
he deserved to be hanged, more than all the rest, for bring- 
ing in the Scots. Upon which he said that I spoke like 
an honest man, and so we parted." 2 [It hath been said that 
the King took some refreshment at Thorn Farm, Ink- 
berrow, thirteen miles south-east of Bromsgrove, and at 
the intersection of the roads, at Bearby,] " about a mile 
before Stratford-on-Avon, a poor old woman that was 
gleaning in a field, cried out, of her own accord, without 
occasion given her ; ' Master, don't you see a troop of horse 
before you ? ' We espied upon the way a troop of horse, 
whose riders were alighted, and the horses eating some 
grass by the wayside ; staying there, as I thought, while 
their muster-master provided them quarters. Mrs. Lane's 

1 Bromsgrove. 

2 " ' Perhaps," said the King, ' he has got by by-ways back into Scotland.' 
' No, that is not very likely ; >e rather lurks secretly somewhere in England, 
and I wish I knew where he were, for I might get a thousand pounds by 
taking him ' . . . upon the road the King told his mistress what discourse he 
had had with the smith." (Bate, Elenchus Motuunt t etc.) 


sister's husband, 1 who went along with her as far as Strat- 
ford, seeing this troop of horse just in our way, said, that 
for his part he would not go by them, for he had been once 
or twice beaten by some of the Parliament soldiers, and he 
would not run the venture again. I hearing him say so, 
begged Mrs. Lane, softly in her ear, that we might not 
turn back, but go on, if they should see us turn. But all 
she could say in the world would not do, but her brother- 
in-law turned quite round, and went into Stratford another 
way," [by the road to the left] 2 " the troop of horse being 
then just getting on horseback, about twice twelve-score 
off: " [crossing the Avon] "we did meet the troop" ["who 
opened right and left to let them pass, and being saluted 
by them, only saluted them again, civilly giving hat for hat. 3 
Meanwhile, Lord Wilmot, Colonel Lane, and Robert Swan 
my lord's servant, took horse, with hawk and spaniels 
with them for a disguise, and arrived that night at Sir 
Clement Fisher's house at Packington. At Stratford"] 
" her brother and we parted, he going his way, and we ours 
towards Long Marston, 4 where we lay at a kinsman's, 5 I 
think, of Mrs. Lane's ; neither the said kinsman, nor 
her aforementioned brother-in-law, knowing who I was." 
[" Here Will Jackson, being in the kitchen, in pursuance 
of his disguise, and the cook-maid busy in providing 
supper for her master's friends, she desired him to wind up 
the Jack. Will Jackson was obedient, and attempted it, 
but hit not the right way, which made the maid in some 
passion ask : ' What countryman are you, that you know 
not how to wind up a Jack ? ' Will Jackson answered : ' I 
am a poor tenant's son of Colonel Lane in Staffordshire ; 

1 Mr. Jo. Petre. 

2 The road from Bearley to Snitterfield, called King's Lane, turning to 
the right near Snitterfield, and regaining the road they had left close to 

* Pere Cyprien says they asked Demoiselle Lane where she lived, and 
whether she had seen the King of Scots. 

4 Six miles south of Stratford-on-Avon. 

5 Mr. John Tombs, or Tomes. 


we seldom have roast meat, but when we have we 
don't make use of a jack ; ' 1 which in some measure 
asswaged the maid's indignation. On Thursday morning 
1 1 September, the King with Mrs. Lane and Mr. Lassels 
rose early, and after Mrs. Lane had taken leave of Mr. 
Tombs, they took horse, and without any considerable 
accident rode by Chipping Campden ; 2 and came that 
night to the ' Crown ' inn 3 in Cirencester, in Gloucester- 
shire, about thirty-six miles from Long Marston. After 
supper, a good bed was provided for Mr. Lassels, and a 
truckle-bed for Will Jackson in the same chamber ; but 
Mr. Lassels (after the chamberlain had left them) laid his 
Majesty in the best bed and himself in the other, and used 
the like due observance, when any opportunity would allow 
it. The next day being Friday, the Royal Traveller with 
his attendants left Cirencester, and by the way of Chipping 
Sodbury, and entering Bristol by Lawford's Gate, crossed 
the Avon at the Bridge [or by Rownham Ferry ?]. They 
were accordingly to ride quite through the city of Bristol ; a 
place and people the King had been so well acquainted 
with that he could not but send his eyes abroad to view 
the great alterations which had been made there, after his 
departure thence ; and when he rode near the place 
where the great fort had stood, he could not forbear 
putting his horse out of the way, and rode with his 
mistress behind him about it ; and once they lost their 
way, till better enquiry informed them ; and passing out 
at Redcliffe Gate, and keeping on the left bank of the 
Avon, they arrived that evening, sooner than usual, at 
Mr. Norton's house at Abbots Leigh, some three miles 
from Bristol ; and it being on a holiday they saw many 
people about a bowling-green that was before the door, 

1 Dauncy says, " The maid . . . asking him where he was born, and 
what trade he was, he answers, at Brumingham, and a Naylor's son." 

2 Perhaps they rode along the Fosseway from Stow-in-the-Wold and 

3 Probably what is now the " Sun," an older inn, of more retired situation, 
still having a " King Charles' Room." (Fea.) 


and the first man the King saw was Dr. Gorges, a chaplain 
of his own, who was allied to the gentleman of the 
house, and was sitting upon the rails to see how the 
bowlers played. Will Jackson walked with his horse into 
the stable until his mistress could provide for his retreat."] 
" Mrs. Lane called the butler of the house, a very 
honest fellow, whose name was Pope, and had served as 
falconer to Tom Jermyn, a groom of my bed-chamber, 
when I was a boy at Richmond ; and she bade him take 
care of Will Jackson, for that was my name, as having been 
lately sick of an ague, whereof she said I was still weak, 
and not quite recovered. And the truth is, my late fatigues 
and want of meat had indeed made me look a little pale. 
Besides this, Pope had been a trooper in the King my 
father's army ; but I was not to be known in that house 
for any thing but Mrs. Lane's servant." [" By this artifice 
she caused a good bed to be still provided for him, and 
the best meat to be sent, which she often carried herself to 
hinder others doing it She desired her cousin that a 
chamber might be provided for him, and a good fire made, 
for that he would go early to bed, and was not fit to be 
below stairs ; and Mrs. Norton's maid, Margaret Rider, 
who was commanded to be his nurse-keeper, made William 
a Carduus-posset and was very careful of him."] " Pope 
the butler took great care of me that night, I not eating, 
as I should have done, with the servants, on account of my 
not being well." [" When it was supper-time, there being 
broth brought to the table, Mrs. Lane filled a little dish and 
desired the butler who waited at the table to carry that 
dish of porridge to William and tell him that he should have 
some meat sent him presently. The butler carried the 
porridge into the chamber with a napkin and spoon and 
bread, and spoke kindly to the young man who was willing 
to be eating. 1 Dr. Gorges, the King's chaplain, supped 
with them, and being a man of a cheerful conversation, 

1 Clarendon makes Pope recognize the King here, but compare his 
Majesty's own account. 


asked Mrs. Lane many questions concerning William, of 
whom he saw she was so careful by sending up meat to 
him ; ' how long his ague had been gone, and whether he 
had purged since it left him ? ' and the like ; to which 
she gave such answers as occurred. The doctor, from the 
final prevalence of the parliament, had, as many others of 
that function had done, declined his profession, and pre- 
tended to study physic. As soon as supper was done, out 
of good nature, and without telling any body, he went to see 
William. The King saw him coming into the chamber, 
and withdrew to the inside of the bed, that he might be 
furthest from the candle ; and the doctor came and sat down 
by him, and felt his pulse, and asked him many questions, 
which he answered in as few words as was possible, 
and expressing great inclination to go to his bed ; to which 
the doctor left him, and went to Mrs. Lane, and told her 
that he had been with William, and that he would do well, 
and advised her what she should do if his ague returned."] 
"The next morning I arose pretty early, having a very 
good stomach, and went to the buttery hatch to get my 
breakfast, where I found Pope and two or three other 
men in the room, and we all fell to eating bread and 
butter, to which he gave us very good ale and sack. And 
as I was sitting there, there was one that looked like 
a country-fellow sat just by me, who, talking, gave so 
particular an account of the battle of Worcester, to the 
rest of the company, that I concluded he must be one of 
Cromwell's soldiers. But I asking him, how he came to 
give so good an account of that battle ? He told me, he 
was in the King's regiment ; by which I thought he meant 
one Colonel King's regiment. But questioning him further, 
I perceived that he had been in my regiment of guards, in 
Major Broughton's company, that was my major in the 
battle. I asked him what kind of a man I was ? To 
which he answered by describing exactly both my clothes 
and my horse ; and then looking upon me, he told me that 
the King was at least three fingers taller than I. Upon 


which I made what haste I could out of the buttery, for 
fear he should indeed know me, as being more afraid when 
I knew he was one of our own soldiers, than when I took 
him for one of the enemies. So Pope and I went into the 
hall, and just as we came into it Mrs. Norton was coming 
by through it ; upon which, I plucking off my hat, and 
standing with my hat in my hand, as she past by, that 
Pope looked very earnestly in my face. But I took no 
notice of it, but put on my hat again, and went away, 
walking out of the house into the field. I had not been 
out half an hour, but coming back I went up into the 
chamber where I lay ; and just as I came thither, Mr. 
Lassells came to me, and in a little trouble said, 'what 
shall we do ? I am afraid Pope knows you ; for he says 
very positively to me that it is you, but I have denied it.' 
Upon which I presently, without more ado, asked him, 
' whether he was a very honest man or no ? ' Whereto 
he answering me, that he knew him to be so honest a 
fellow that he durst trust him with his life, as having 
been always on our side, I thought it better to trust 
him, than go away leaving that suspicion upon him ; and 
thereupon sent for Pope, and told him, that I was very 
glad to meet him there, and would trust him with my life 
as an old acquaintance. Upon which, being a discreet 
fellow, he asked me what I intended to do ? ' for/ says he, 
'I am extremely happy I know you, for otherways you 
might run great danger in this house. For though my 
master and mistress are good people, yet there are at this 
time one or two in it that are very great rogues ; and 
I think I can be useful to you in any thing you will 
command me.' Upon which I told him my design of 
getting a ship, if possible, at Bristol ; and to that end, 
bade him go that very day immediately to Bristol, to see 
if there were any ships going either to Spain or France, 
that I might get a passage away in. I told him also that 
my Lord Wilmot was coming to meet me here, this very 
day. Upon which Pope told me, that it was most fortunate 


that he knew me, and had heard this from me ; for that if 
my Lord Wilmot should have come hither, he would have 
been most certainly known to several people in the house ; 
and therefore he would go. And accordingly went out, 
and met my Lord Wilmot a mile or two off the house, not 
far off, where he lodged him till it was night, and then 
brought him hither, by a back-door, into my chamber ; I 
still passing for a serving-man, and Lassells and I lay in 
one chamber. So soon after Pope had been at Bristol to 
enquire for a ship, but could hear of none ready to depart 
beyond sea sooner than within a month, which was too 
long for me to stay thereabout, I betook myself to the 
advising afresh with my Lord Wilmot and Pope what was 
to be done. And the latter telling me that there lived 
somewhere in that country, upon the edge of Somerset- 
shire, at Trent, within two miles of Sherburn, Frank 
Windham, the Knight Marshal's brother, who being my 
old acquaintance, and a very honest man, I resolved to go 
to his house. But the night before we were to go away, we 
had a misfortune that might have done us much prejudice ; 
for Mrs. Norton, who was big with child, fell into labour, 
and miscarried of a dead child, and was very ill ; so that 
we could not tell how in the world to find an excuse for 
Mrs. Lane to leave her cousin in that condition ; and 
indeed it was not safe to stay longer there, where there 
was so great resort of disaffected idle people. At length, 
consulting with Mr. Lassells, I thought the best way to 
counterfeit a letter from her father's house, old Mr. Lane's, 
to tell her that her father was extremely ill, and commanded 
her to come away immediately, for fear that she should 
not otherways find him alive ; which letter Pope delivered 
so well, while they were all at supper, and Mrs. Lane 
playing her part so dexterously, that all believed old Mr. 
Lane to be indeed in great danger, and gave his daughter 
the excuse to go away with me the very next morning 
early." [" While his Majesty lay here, somewhat wearied 
with imprisonment in his chamber, one day (when his ague 


might be supposed to be in intermission) he walked down 
to a place where the young men played at a game of ball 
called Fives, where his Majesty was asked by one of the 
gamesters if he could play, and would take his part at that 
game. He pleaded unskilfulness and modestly refused. 
On Tuesday morning, 16 September, his Majesty's being 
then (as was pretended) in the recess, he repaired to the 
stable, and there gave orders for making ready the horses, 
and then it was signified from Mrs. Lane (though before 
so agreed), that Will Jackson should ride single and carry 
the portmanteau. Accordingly, they mounted, being 
attended part of the way by one of Mr. Norton's men, 
as a guide ; and at Castle Cary they met Mr. Kirton, a 
servant of the King's who well knew the Lord Wilmot, 
who had no other disguise than the hawk, but took no 
notice of him nor suspected the King to be there, yet that 
day made the King more wary of having the Lord Wilmot 
in his company on the way. Kirton, however, on their 
being made known, took them to the manor-house of 
Castle Cary [or his brother's house], where they slept that 
night."] " I had appointed my Lord Wilmot to meet me at 
Trent, whom I still took care not to keep with me, but sent 
him a little before, or left to come after me. I could never 
get my Lord Wilmot to put on any disguise, he saying that 
he would look frightfully in it; and therefore did never put 
on any." 1 [" The appointed hour of their coming to Trent 
drawing nigh, Wyndham and his wife, as if to take a walk, 
went out to meet them, and send the King privately into 
the house by one whom they had chosen for that purpose ; 
Jane and Lassels in the mean time are publicly received as 
relations, who, coming from a place far distant, were to 
be gone next day. The King arrived about ten o'clock 
in the morning, and was espied by the Colonel and his 
wife as they walked. As soon as his Majesty came near 

1 Going over to England in March, 1655, he did adopt the disguise of a 
yellow periwig, but nought else ; though later he adopted the semblance of a 
grazier, (Fea.) 


the Colonel, he called out, ' Frank, Frank, how dost thou 
do ? ' The Colonel instantly conveyed the King and Mrs. 
Lane into the Lady Wyndham his mother's Chamber. In 
a short time the Colonel brought the Lord Wilmot to 
the King, and then the ladies withdrew into the parlour, 
having first agreed to call Mrs. Lane cousin, and to 
entertain her with the same familiarity as if she had 
been their nearest relation. That day she stayed at 
Trent, and the next morning early Mr. Lassels and she 
departed." *] "When we came to Trent, my Lord Wilmot 
and I advised with Frank Windham, whether he had any 
acquaintance at any sea-town upon the coast of Dorset 
or Devonshire ; who told me that he was very well 
acquainted with Gyles Strangways, and that he would go 
directly to him, and inform himself whether he might not 
have some acquaintance at Weymouth or Lyme, or some 

1 Mrs. Lane and the Colonel escaped to France in October, 1651, and 
Mrs. Lane stayed for some time in Charles' Court at Paris, afterwards enter- 
ing the service of Mary of Orange, and going to Coin in 1654. While 
entirely above suspicion, Charles' affection for her was genuine, and it was a 
family jest often repeated by the Princess of Orange to call Mrs. Lane the 
King's wife. We have a few letters written by the King to Jane, of which 
the following is an example : "The last of June [1652]. Mrs. Lane, I did 
not thinke I should ever have to begin a letter to you in chiding, but you give 
so just cause by telling me you feare you are wearing out of my memory, 
that I cannot chuse but tell you I take it very unkindly, that after the obliga- 
tions I have to you, 'tis possible for you to suspect I can ever be so wanting to 
my selfe as not to remember them on all occasions to your advantage ; which 
I assure you I shall, and hope before it be long I shall have it in my power 
to giue you those testimonyes of my kindnesse to you which I desire. I am 
very sorry to hear that your father and brother are in prison, but I hope 'tis 
upon no other score than the generall claping vp of all persons who wish me 
well, and I am the more sorry for it, since it hath hindered you from 
commeing along with my sister, that I might have assured you my self how 
truly I am, your most affectionate friend, Charles R." "For Mrs. Lane." * 
Charles did not forget his " obligations " ; the whole family were enriched, 
and their arms augmented ; while numerous little tokens of affection in the 
shape of gold watches and the like, were showered upon Mrs. Lane, besides 
a gift of 1000 and an annual pension of the same sum. After Mrs. Lane's 
arrival in France, the English papers reported : " The King and the Cavaliers 
do extremely caress them." 

* Hist. MSS. Comm. Rep. vj. p. 473. Quoted in Allan Fea, Flight of 
the King^ p. 104 (part), and part again in Eva Scott's King in Exile. 


of those parts. But Gyles Strangways proved not to 
have any, as having been long absent from all those 
places, as not daring to stir abroad, having been always 
faithful to the King ; but he desired Frank Windham to 
try what he could do therein, it being unsafe for him to be 
found busy upon the sea coast. But withal he sent me 
three hundred broad pieces, which he knew were necessary 
for me in the conditions I was now in ; for I durst carry 
no money about me in those mean clothes, and my hair 
cut short, but about ten or twelve shillings in silver." 
["The Colonel then rode over to Lyme Regis to confer 
with one Captain William Ellesdon, an acquaintance living 
in that town. The Captain speaking of a tenant of his, 
one Stephen Limboy, of Charmouth, master of a coasting 
vessel, he and Colonel Wyndham went there together, and 
settled with him that for three-score pounds he should 
carry over some royalist gentlemen to France, and have 
his long boat in readiness at Charmouth on the night of 
22 September. Hitherto all things succeeding according 
to their expectation, there only wanted a pretext of staying 
in lodgings, till all things might be made ready for their 
passage. For that end, Hugh Peters, Colonel Wyndham's 
servant, who was privy to the design, applies himself to 
Margaret Wade, hostess of the ' Queen's Arms ' at Char- 
mouth, and told her he was servant to a worthy nobleman, 
in love with a maid that had neither father nor mother, 
who lived not far off, and was as deeply in love with him, 
but that her guardian opposing the marriage, he resolved 
to steal her away by night. He therefore asks her, if she 
would for some hours entertain them in her house ; and at 
the same time gives her a small gift as a pledge of a 
greater reward ; and drinks a glass of wine with her. The 
woman promises to serve them."] " And accordingly we 
set out from Frank Windham's, and to cover the matter 
the better, I rode before a cousin of Frank Windham's, one 
Mrs. Juliana Coningsby, still going by the name of William 
Jackson. Memorandum, that one day, during my stay at 


Trent, I hearing the bells ring (the church being hard by 
Frank Windham's house) and seeing a company got 
together in the churchyard, I sent down the maid of the 
house, who knew me, to enquire what the matter was ; 
who returning came up and told me, that there was a rogue 
a trooper come out of Cromwell's army that was telling the 
people that he had killed me, and that that was my buff 
coat which he had then on. Upon which, most of the 
village being fanatics, they were ringing the bells, and 
making a bonfire for joy of it. This merchant having 
appointed us to come to Lyme, we, viz., myself, my Lord 
Wilmot, Frank Windham, Mrs. Coningsby, and one servant 
of Frank Windham's, whose name was Peter, were directed 
from him to a little village hard by Lyme, the vessel being 
to come out of the cobb at Lyme, and come to a little 
creek that was just by this village, whither we went, and 
to send their boat ashore to take us in at the said creek, 
and carry us over to France, the wind being then very good 
at north." [" In this manner travelling, they were timely 
met by Captain Ellesdon, and by him conducted to a private 
house of his brother's among the hills near Charmouth, 
called Elsdon's Farm, in Monckton Wyld. There his 
Majesty was pleased to discover himself to the Captain, 
and to give him a piece of foreign gold in which in his 
solitary hours, he made a hole to put a ribbon in. So they 
came * to a blind inn in Charmouth, where they found many 
passengers, and so were to be contented with an ordinary 
chamber, which they did not intend to sleep long in. But as 
soon as there appeared any light, there was no appearance 
of the bark."] " So I sent Frank Windham's man, Peters, and 
my Lord Wilmot to Lyme the next morning to know the 
reason of it," ["and to join their friends at a Bridport inn 
at noon, while the King, Mrs. Juliana, and Frank Windham, 
ride to that town. Wilmot could not go, because his horse 
had cast a shoe ; but Peters got no explanation from the 

1 Probably by Over-compton, Berwick, Pilsdon, Pen, and Lamberts 
Castle. (Fea,) 


astonished Elden, except that the sailors might have been 
drunk. But it was known afterwards, that the master of 
the vessel being come home about ten o'clock that night, 
to take clean clothes and other necessaries for his voyage 
with him, was locked up in his chamber, and bolted in by 
his wife ; for that very day a proclamation had been made 
in the town, whereby it was declared death for any person 
to aid or conceal the King ; and a thousand pounds pro- 
mised to any that could apprehend him. This put the 
woman into so great a fear, lest her husband in doing that 
office, which he had confessed to his wife to have taken 
upon him, might suffer shipwreck upon shore ; she there- 
fore used entreaties, tears, and almost violence, to hinder 
him from it ; and at length screamed out thereby to alarm 
the neighbourhoods. Being therefore overcome by so much 
importunity he kept at home, and commended himself to 
the direction of his wife. Meanwhile my Lord Wilmot's 
horse was being shod, and the prick-eared blacksmith 
Hamnet, viewing the remaining shoes, said : ' This horse 
hath but three shoes on, and they were set in three several 
counties, and one of them in Worcestershire ; ' which speech 
of his fully confirmed the ostler's suspicion that one of the 
inn's guests was the King ; and he discovered his jealousies 
unto his mistress, and was rebuked for his pains ; accord- 
ingly he went when Peters was with Ellesdon at Lyme, to 
tell the then parson of Charmouth ; who, happening to be 
then engaged in prayer with his family, spoke not with 
him, which has reconciled some ever since to extemporary 
prayer. After the departure of his major towards Bridport, 
the ostler went a second time to the parson, and fully dis- 
covered his thoughts, and told him what the smith had 
said. The parson thereupon hastened to the inn and saluted 
the hostess in this manner: 'Why how now, Margaret? 
You are a maid of honour now.' 'What mean you by 
that, master Parson ? ' Quoth he : ' Why Charles Stuart 
lay last night at your house, and kissed you at his depar- 
ture ; so that now you can't but be a maid of honour.' 


The woman began then to be very angry, and told him he 
was a scurvy-conditioned man to go about to bring her 
and her house into trouble. ' But,' said she, ' if I thought 
it was the King, as you say it was, I would think the better 
of my lips all the days of my life ; and so, Mr. Parson, get 
you out of my house, or else I'll get those shall kick you 
out.' Then the parson and the smith applied to Mr. John 
Butler, the nearest Justice of the Peace, to raise the county 
for his Majesty's apprehension, which he refused to do, 
thinking them fools. The King passing upon London 
Road from Charmouth, met many travellers, among whom 
was one of his father's servants, well known to both his 
Majesty and the Colonel, who were very well pleased that 
he was not guilty of so much civility as to salute them. As 
they drew near to Bridport, the Colonel riding a little 
before, perceived it "] " full of red-coats, Cromwell's soldiers, 
being a regiment of Colonel Haynes, viz., fifteen hundred 
men going to embark to take Jersey, at which Frank 
Windham was very much startled, and asked me what I 
would do ? I told him that we must go impudently into 
the best inn in the town, and take a chamber there, as the 
only thing to be done, because we should otherways miss 
my Lord Wilmot, in case we went anywhere else, and that 
would be very inconvenient both to him and me. So we 
rode directly into [the " George "] the best inn of the place, 
and found the yard very full of soldiers. I alighted, and 
taking the horses thought it the best way to go blundering 
in among them, and lead them through the middle of the 
soldiers into the stable, which I did ; and they were very 
angry with me for my rudeness. As soon as I came into 
the stable I took the bridle off the horses, and called the 
hostler to me to help me, and to give the horses some oats. 
And as the hostler was helping me to feed the horses, 
' Sure, Sir,' says the hostler, ' I know your face ? ' which 
was no very pleasant question to me. But I thought the 
best way was to ask him, where he had lived ? whether he 
had always lived there or no ? He told me, that he was 


but newly come thither ; that he was born in Exeter, and 
had been hostler in an inn there, hard by one Mr. Potter's, 
a merchant, in whose house I had lain, in the time of war : 
so I thought it best to give the fellow no further occasion 
of thinking where he had seen me, for fear he should guess 
right at last ; therefore I told him, ' Friend, certainly you 
have seen me then at Mr. Potter's, for I served him a good 
while, above a year.' ' Oh ! ' says he, ' then I remember 
you a boy there' ; and with that was put off from thinking 
any more on it ; but desired that we might drink a pot of 
beer together ; which I excused, by saying, that I must 
go wait on my master, and get his dinner ready for him. 
But told him, that my master was going for London, and 
would return about three weeks hence, when he would 
lie there, and I would not fail to drink a pot with him." 
["The King was forced to stay in the stable-yard near 
half an hour before the Colonel could procure a chamber, 
and all this while he freely discoursed with his bloody 
enemies and learnt from them their intended voyage to 
Jersey and Guernsey^ The mutton being ready, the King 
was called up, who made haste to eat (the door being shut), 
and so went again to fit the horses whilst they did eat. 
They took care, the house being full of soldiers, to be 
served by an old woman, to whom they gave the rest of 
the mutton, who took out the pan of the close-stool to hide 
it under."] " As soon as we had dined, my Lord Wilmot 
came in to the town from Lyme, but went to another 
inn." [" Peters riding into the ' George ' yard, was observed 
by Mrs. Coningsby from the window, and called up."] 
"Upon which, we rode out of town, as if we had gone 
upon the road to London ; and when we were got two 
miles off, my Lord Wilmot overtook us, (he having 
observed, while in town, where we were) and told us, that 
he believed the ship might be ready next night ; but that 
there had been some mistake betwixt him and the master 
of the ship. Upon which, I not thinking it fit to go back 
again to the same place where we had sat up the night 


before, we went to a village called " [" Broadwindsor. For 
they concluded the London Road very unsafe, and so 
turned aside to the left through Netherbury towards the 
said village, which was indeed their preservation, seeing 
that Captain Macey and his men, in pursuit of his Majesty, 
rode in to the ( George ' inn at Bridport, but a quarter of 
an hour after his Majesty left it, and finding that the party 
they looked for, gone on the London Road, went by that 
way to Dorchester, where not finding whom they sought, 
they returned to Pilsdon, to the house of Sir Hugh Wind- 
ham, which they strictly searched, taking a fair young 
gentlewoman there to be the King disguised ; this however 
not proving so, they left. But to return to his Majesty. 
Windham goes before, to enquire in what part of the 
country they were, and the like ; and by good luck he 
stumbled upon the innkeeper of the 'George,' one Rice 
Jones, an old servant of a friend, who had been also a 
soldier in the King's army. Pleased with this good fortune, 
he speaks him kindly, and easily obtained night's lodging 
for his company. While the horses were being put up, 
the Colonel desires the host to shew him his most private 
rooms ; the reason he gave was : because his brother-in- 
law Colonel Bullen Reymes, (whom the Lord Wilmot 
personated and greatly resembled) had been overstepping 
the limits assigned him on parole, (the royalists being then 
confined to five miles distance from their homes), and 
might therefore be troubled. The good host upon this 
brought them up into the highest chambers, where private- 
ness recompensed the meanness of the accommodation ; 
and the pleasantness of the host (a merry fellow) allayed 
and mitigated the weariness of the guests. Soon in comes 
the constable with almost forty soldiers to be billeted in 
the inn ; all the lower rooms were thronged up with this 
unexpected company, so that the King was in a manner 
besieged, there being no passage from above, save through 
those Guards. Shortly after this, a woman who followed the 
soldiers fell in labour in the kitchen ; and the inhabitants 


began to be ill at ease, fearing lest the whole Parish 
should become reputed father of the child. To avoid the 
charge of keeping the brat, the chiefest of the parish post 
to the inn, between whom and the soldiers arose a very 
hot conflict concerning provision to be made for the mother 
and the infant. This dispute continued till such time as, 
according to orders, they were to march to the sea-side, 
and exercised their minds, which might otherwise have 
been employed in examining their fellow-guests. While 
his Majesty and company were in the inn, the hostess 
came to welcome Colonel Reymes, whom she said she very 
well knew at Exeter, when she lived with Mrs. Coventry ; 
and how she caressed Lord Wilmot instead of him you 
may be better informed by his Majesty himself, that to this 
day hath not forgot it. His Majesty and his attendants 
rose some hours before day, and returned to Colonel 
Francis Windham's at Trent. While the King lay at 
Trent, he used Lady Windham's chamber, that had a secret 
place near it ; and his Majesty's meat was mostly dressed 
in his own room, the cookery whereof served him for some 
divertisement of the time. Upon the Sunday morning 
after the King came, a tailor of the parish informed the 
Colonel that the zealots of the place intended to search 
his house for persons of quality hid there. The Colonel 
told him that his kinsman (meaning my Lord Wilmot) was 
not private, but public, in his house, and that he believed 
he would shew himself in church at time of prayers ; 
which he performed, insomuch that the zealots said that 
Cromwell's late successes against the King had made the 
Colonel a convert. There is a strange story of a Captain 
who served under Cromwell at Worcester, reported to two 
Divines before the blessed Restauration : That he was 
followed and troubled with dreams for three nights to- 
gether, that the King was hid at Trent near Sherborne, in 
a house nigh which stood a grove or patch of trees ; but 
he was holden that he should not go. The day on which 
his Majesty was returned to Trent, one Mr. Edward Hyde 


dined with the company, and in conversing spoke of 
Colonel Robert Phelips, who had returned to Salisbury. 
The King therefore "] " sent away presently to Colonel 
Robert Phelips', to see what he could do for the getting me 
a ship." [" Lord Wilmot and Hugh Peters went to Salis- 
bury, and took up their quarters at the ' King's Arms,' 
near the close, a noted resort of the King's friends. My 
Lord Wilmot then spoke with Mr. John Coventry and with 
Dr. Humphrey Henchman, both living in the Close, and 
with Colonel Phelips ; and Mr. Coventry gave him some 
money, and then left my Lord to talk with the Colonel ; 
and the Colonel undertook the service of the King ; and 
Mr. Coventry came to them again, and they drank a bottle 
or two. Next morning the Colonel met one Mr. Home, a 
merchant, who told him of one who would carry over the 
King, and on Sunday, 28 September, about three in the 
afternoon, an agreement was made for forty pounds, and 
the boat to be ready by Wednesday night. But upon 
going to the ' Bear ' inn without Southampton gates, 
Colonel Phelips was told by Home and the master, that 
the bark was pressed to carry provisions to the Parlia- 
ment's fleet. My Lord and Mr. Coventry and Dr. Hench- 
man judged it safer for his Majesty to leave Trent and 
remove to Mrs. Hyde's at Heale House, about three miles 
north-east of Salisbury. The message to this effect was 
sent to Trent, and one sent back by his Majesty in like 
manner, which was rolled in a paper bullet, to be swallowed 
by the messenger in case of danger. On Sunday, 5 October, 
his Majesty left Trent after a sojourn of nineteen days, 
with Colonel Phelips, personating a tenant's son of his, 
riding before Mrs. Coningsby. They went by Sandford- 
Orcas, North Cheriton, and Charleton Horethorne, and 
Wincanton to Mere, and dined there at the ' George ' inn ; 
the host, Mr. Christopher Philips, whom the Colonel knew 
to be perfectly honest, sat at the table with his Majesty, 
and administered matters of discourse, telling the Colonel 
for news, that he heard the men of Westminster were in a 


great maze, not knowing what was become of the King : 
' but,' says he, ' 'tis the most received opinion that he is 
come in a disguise to London, and many houses have been 
searched for him there,' at which his Majesty was observed 
to smile. After dinner mine host familiarly asked the 
King, ' if he were a friend to Caesar,' to which his Majesty 
answered, 'Yes'; 'then/ said he, 'here's a health to 
King Charles, in a glass of wine,' which the King and the 
Colonel both pledged, and that evening arrived safely at 
Heale. And his Majesty since his happy return has been 
pleased to ask what was become of his honest host at 
Mere. 1 On the way to Salisbury, in his journey his Majesty 
passed through the midst of a regiment of horse and 
presently after met Desborough walking down a hill with 
three or four men with him who had lodged in Salisbury 
the night before, all that road being full of soldiers."] " I 
came into the house" [at Heale] "just as it was almost dark 
with Robin Philips only, not intending at first to make my- 
self known. But just as I alighted at the door Mrs. Hyde 
knew me, though she had never seen me but once in her 
life, and that was with the King my father, in the army, when 
we marched by Salisbury, some years before, in the time 
of the war ; but she being a discreet woman took no notice 
at that time of me, I passing only for a friend of Robin 
Philips, by whose advice I went thither." [" His Majesty 
first went and warmed himself by the kitchen fire."] " At 
supper there was with us Frederick Hyde, since a judge, 
and his sister-in-law a widow, Robin Philips, myself, and 
Dr. Henchman, since Bishop of London, whom I had ap- 
pointed to meet me there." [" Though his Majesty was set 
at the lower end of the table, Mrs. Hyde had much ado to 
overcome herself, and not carve to him first ; however, she 

1 Colonel Phelips was drinking in the cellar with the landlord, when the 
latter said to the King : " Thou lookest like an honest fellow ; here's a health 
to the King." Charles hesitated in replying, and "made the man expostulate 
with the colonel, what fellow he had brought." (Fea, Flight of the King> 
p. 158.) Cf. Highways and Byways in Dorset^ p. 18. 


could not refrain from drinking to him in a glass of wine, 
and giving him two larks when others had but one. After 
supper Mr. Frederick Hyde discoursed with his Majesty 
upon various subjects, but wondered to see such rational 
discourse from a person whose habit spoke him but of 
mean degree ; and when his Majesty was brought to his 
chamber, Dr. Henchman attended him and had a long and 
private communication with him there."] " While we were 
at supper, I observed Mrs. Hyde and her brother Frederick 
to look a little earnestly at me, which led me to believe 
they might know me. But I was not at all startled at it, 
it having been my purpose to let her know who I was ; 
and accordingly after supper Mrs. Hyde came to me, 
and I discovered myself to her ; who told me, she had 
a very safe place to hide me in, till we knew whether 
our ship was ready or no. But she said it was not safe 
for her to trust any body but herself and her sister ; and 
therefore advised me to take my horse next morning, 
and make as if I quitted the house, and return again 
about night ; for she would order it so that all her ser- 
vants and everybody should be out of the house, but 
herself and her sister, whose name I remember not. So 
Robin Philips and I took our horses, and " [" rode about 
the Downs, and took a view of the wonder of the 
country, Stonehenge, where they found that the King's 
arithmetic gave the lie to the fabulous tale that those 
stones cannot be told alike twice together,"] " and returned 
back again to Heale about the hour she appointed, where 
I went up into the hiding-hole, that was very convenient 
and safe, and stayed there all alone (Robin Philips then 
going away to Salisbury) some four or five days," [" during 
which time the widow only attended with necessaries and 
brought such letters as the Doctor received from my Lord 
Wilmot and Colonel Phelips. Meanwhile my Lord Wilmot 
had visited Colonel Gunter. Betwixt eight and nine of 
the clock on the night of 7 October, the colonel came 
home ; his wife met him and told him there was in the 


parlour a Devonshire gentleman sent by Mr. Hyde, about 
a reference which none but yourself can decide. At the 
colonel's coming in, he found his Devonshire gentleman 
sitting at one end of the chimney, Captain Thomas Gounter 
at the other, and his lady (which was gone in before) in 
the middle. The gentleman rose and saluted him. The 
Colonel presently knew him to be the Lord Wilmot, 
which the noble lord perceiving took the Colonel aside to 
the window, ' I see you know me,' (said he) ' do not own 
me.' Captain Thomas Gounter, the colonel's kinsman, 
for all he had a long time been in the army and under his 
command, knew him not, which was strange, my lord 
being but meanly disguised. After a bottle of sack, which 
afforded some matter of discourse, by reason of two wasps 
or rather hornets which came out at the opening, a short 
collation being made ready as soon as could (his lady 
having given leave to her servants to be from home that 
day), my lord's man, one Swan, coming in to wait, 
whispered his master in the ear, and told him my Lord 
Wentworth's boy Lorrie was without ; and wished him to 
be careful for fear the boy should know him, being taken 
by Captain Thomas Gounter in distress at Chelsea, and 
clothed by him to wait upon him. Supper ended there 
was whispering betwixt the colonel's kinsman and his 
lady : and she told him she was confident of a disguise, 
and that it was the master by his hand. He beat her off 
it as much as he could suspecting no such matter himself. 
Within half-an-hour after supper, the colonel offered the 
noble lord, then by name Mr. Barlowe, it being late and 
as the greatest courtesy he would shew him, to wait upon 
him to his chamber, and to bed, which he readily accepted. 
The colonel took up the candle, the lord following him, 
his lady and kinsman attending. When he came into the 
chamber, it being late the colonel desired his wife and 
kinsman to go to bed and to leave him, for he was bound 
to wait upon this gentleman awhile, they took leave and 
bid him good-night. The noble lord and colonel being 


alone, he broke the business unto the colonel with these 
words (sighing) : ' The King of England, my master, your 
master, and the master of all good Englishmen, is near 
you and in great distress ; can you help us to a boat ? ' 
The colonel looking very sadly, after some pause said : 
4 Is he well ? is he safe ? ' He said ' Yes.' The Colonel 
replied ' God be blessed ; ' and gave him a reason for his 
question if he should not be secure, he doubted not but he 
could secure him till a boat could be gotten. At length 
the Colonel promised to try for a boat, and left my Lord ; 
coming to his wife, he found her staying up for him, and 
very earnest to know of this business, which, after leave 
obtained from my Lord, the Colonel told her, and next 
morning, Wednesday, 8 October, rode to Emsworth, 
passing through Westbourne. Finally, by his means, a 
vessel was hired at Brighthelmstone in Sussex, by the 
assistance of Mr. Francis Mansel, a merchant of Chichester, 
and the concurrent endeavours of Captain Thomas Counter. 
And on Saturday night, the 1 1 October, he brought the 
tidings to my Lord Wilmot and Colonel Phelips ; and 
on Sunday Dr. Henchman went to Heale with the 
news, and instructions to prepare the King to be ready 
at the meadow gate opening into the river, when the 
Colonel would be there by three of the clock in the morn- 
ing with a led horse for the King. Accordingly the 
Colonel came to the place appointed, but had the mis- 
fortune to have the King's horse, at the entering of the 
meadow-gate, to break his bridle and run up the river, which 
after some short time with no small trouble he recovered 
and brought back, and having in some tolerable manner 
amended that had been broke, the King and the Colonel 
set forward for Brighthempson ; to meet the Colonel at 
Clarendon Park Corner, his Majesty went out of the house 
of Heale at two o'clock in the morning by the back-way 
and went on foot with Dr. Henchman for two miles. At 
the appointed time and place, the colonel brought a 
brace of greyhounds and beat with my Lord Wilmot and 


his cousin till the time served, and then left them, resolving 
to ride on till he met the King, and just as he came to 
Warnford town end from Old Winchester, he met Colonel 
Phelips and the King. Being near the houses, the Colonel 
rid by them and took no notice, went to an inn in the 
town, called for some beer and took a pipe, and stayed so 
long that they were atop Old Winchester before he over- 
took them. When he had overtaken them and done his 
duty to his Majesty, he directed them the safest way, and 
he would ride before to find out my Lord Wilmot, which 
being done, they all came together. The King and my 
Lord had some private discourse together ; and when they 
came to Broadhalfpenny, a little above Hambledon, the 
King spake to the Colonel. ' Canst thou get me a lodging 
hereabouts ? ' The Colonel told him that his cousin 
Hyde's house was taken up for him, and very convenient, 
being near and in the way ; but whether his Majesty 
thought it too public a place, or for some other reason, he 
said : ' Know you no other ? ' ' Yes, may it please your 
Majesty. I know divers yeomanry,' saith Colonel Counter, 
' where for a night we may be welcome, there is one who 
married my sister, whose house stands privately and 
out of the way.' ' Let us go thither,' saith the King. 
The colonel then led them all a private way, the backside 
of Hambledon, to the house, being but half a mile off. 
Alighting at the door, the Colonel led them in, Lord 
Wilmot following, the King putting Colonel Philips before 
him, saying, 'Thou lookest the most like a gentleman 
now.' Coming in, the Colonel's sister met him ; they all 
saluted her. She brought them into a little parlour where 
was a good fire. This was about candle-lighting. Wine, 
ale, and biscuits were presently set before them with 
a very cheerful countenance, and in an hour's space they 
went to supper, being all set promiscuously at a round 
table ; and having half supped, in comes the colonel's 
sister's husband, Mr. Thomas Symones, who, as it plainly 
appeared, had been in company that day. 'This is 


brave/ said he ; ' a man can no sooner be out of the way 
but his house must be taken up with I know not whom.' 
And looking in the Colonel's face, ' Is it you ? ' said he, 
'you are welcome, and, as your friends, so they are all.' 
Passing round the table and viewing all the company, 
he said : ' These are all Hydes now,' but peeping in the 
King's face, and observing how little hair William Penderel's 
scissors had left him, said of him : ' Here is a Roundhead,' 
and addressing his speech to the Colonel, said, ' I never 
knew you keep Roundheads' company before.' To which 
the Colonel replied ; ' It is no matter ; he is my friend, 
and I will assure you no dangerous man.' At which 
words he clapt himself down in a chair next the King and 
took him by the hand, shaking him and saying, ' Brother 
Roundhead, for his sake thou art welcome/ all the while 
making himself one as well as he could act it, the King 
all the while complying with him. Now and then he 
would swear before he was aware, for which the King 
reproved him, saying, ' Oh, dear brother, that is a scape ; 
swear not, I beseech you.' Nevertheless, in that humour 
he was, he plied them hard with strong waters and beer, 
the King not knowing well how to avoid it, but by some- 
body or other, when he looked aside, would take it out of his 
hand. The King was here observed to be clad in a short 
juppa of a sad-coloured cloth and his breeches of another 
species, with a black hat, and without cuffs, somewhat like 
the meaner sort of country gentlemen. Supper being 
ended, it being ten of the clock, the Colonel began to bethink 
himself that the King had rid near forty miles that day 
and was to undergo a very hard journey the next, and how 
to get the King out of his company and to his bed he 
could hardly devise ; yet he whispered his kinsman in the 
ear, saying : ' I wonder how thou shouldst judge so 
right ; he is a Roundhead indeed, and if we could get 
him to bed the house were our own, and we could be 
merry.' He readily submitted, and the colonel presently, 
leaving Lord Wilmot behind, led the King and Colonel 


Robert Philips (who lay in the King's chamber) to bed."] 
"About that time my Lord Southampton, that was 
then at Titchfield, suspecting, for what reason I don't 
know, 1 that it was possible I might be in the country, sent 
either to Robin Philips, or to Dr. Henchman, to offer his 
services, if he could serve me in my escape. But being 
then provided of a ship, I would not put him to the danger 
of having any thing to do with it." [" The King slept well 
all night, and by break of day, the Colonel putting up two 
neats' tongues in his pockets, which he thought they might 
need by the way, they set out and began their journey. 
But having then no further use for Colonel Phelips, his 
Majesty dismissed him with thanks for his fidelity and 
service in this most secret and important affair, and then 
having also bidden farewell to Mr. Symons and his wife, 
took horse, attended by my Lord Wilmot and his man, 
Colonel and Captain Thomas Gunter. When they came 
near the Lord Lumley's house at Stanstead, in Sussex, it 
was thought that the greatness of the number of horse 
might possibly raise some suspicion of them. Captain 
Thomas Counter was therefore dismissed with thanks for the 
service he had done, and his Majesty held on his journey 
without any stay. They were no sooner come to Arundel 
Hill, as they rode close by the castle, but the governor, 
Captain Morley, met them full butt, hunting. The Colonel 
the better to avoid them, it being a steep hill they were to 
go down, presently alighted, and his company, (as was 
agreed before) did as he did, and so happily escaped them. 
The King being told who it was, replied merrily, ' I did not 
much like his starched mouchates.' So they came to 
Houghton, where on horseback they stopped at an alehouse 
for some bread and drink ; and there our neats'-tongues 
stood them in very good stead and were heartily eaten. 
From thence being come to Bramber, we found the streets 
full of soldiers on both sides of the houses, who unluckily and 

1 Mr. Henslow of Burchant, or Burhunt, told the Earl that the King was 
in hiding. (Fea.) 


unknown to the Colonel, were come thither the night before 
to guard ; but by a special Providence were just then come 
from their guard at Bramber Bridge into the town for 
refreshment We came upon them unawares, and were 
seen before they suspected anything. My Lord Wilmot 
was ready to turn back when I stepped in and said, ' If we 
do we are undone. Let us go on boldly and we shall not be 
suspected.' ' He saith well/ said the King. The Colonel 
went before, the King followed, and so passed through 
without any hindrance. It was then between three and 
four of the clock in the afternoon ; they went on, but had 
not gone far, when a new terror pursued them ; the same 
soldiers riding after them as fast as they could ; whereupon 
the King gave the Colonel a ' hem.' He slacked his pace 
till they were come up to him, and by that time the soldiers 
were come, who rudely passed by them, (being in a narrow 
lane) so that they hardly keep their saddles for them, but 
passed by without any further hurt, being thirty or forty 
in number. When they were come to Beeding, a little 
village where the Colonel had provided a treatment for the 
King (one Mr. Bagshall's house), he was earnest that his 
Majesty should stay there awhile till he had viewed the 
coast ; but my Lord Wilmot would by no means, for fear of 
those soldiers, but carried the King out of the road the 
Colonel knew not whither, so they parted ; they where they 
thought safest, the Colonel to Brightemston, being agreed 
they should send to him when fixed any where and ready. 
Being come to the said Brightemston, the Colonel found 
all clear there and the ' George ' inn free from strangers 
at that time. Having taken the best room in the house 
and bespoke his supper, as he was entertaining himself 
with a glass of wine, the King not finding accommodation 
elsewhere to his mind, was come to the inn ; and up comes 
the host Smith ; ' More guests,' saith he to the Colonel. 
He brought them up into another room ; and it was not 
long but drawing towards the King's room, the Colonel 
heard the King's voice saying aloud to my Lord Wilmot, 


1 Here, Mr. Barlow, I drink to you.' ' I know that name,' 
said the Colonel to the host standing by him. ' I pray 
enquire whether he was not a major in the King's army.' 
Which done, he was found to be the man whom the Colonel 
expected, and presently invited (as was likely) to the 
fellowship of a glass of wine. From that the Colonel pro- 
ceeded, and made a motion to join company, and because 
his chamber was largest, that they would make use of it, 
which was accepted, and so they became one company 
again."] "When we came to the inn, we met with one 
Mansel the merchant who had hired the vessel, in company 
with her master, Captain Tettershall, the merchant only 
knowing me, as having hired her to carry over a person of 
quality escaped from the battle of Worcester, without 
naming any body." [" At supper, Mr. Mansel sat at the 
upper end of the table, and Mr. Jackson (for that name his 
Majesty still retained) at the lower end. At supper the 
King was cheerful, not shewing the least sign of fear or 
apprehension of danger, either then or at any time during 
the whole course of this business."] " And as we were all 
here, I observed the master of the vessel looked very much 
upon me. And as soon as we had supped, calling the 
merchant aside, the master told him that he had not dealt 
fairly with him ; for though he had given him a good price 
for the carrying over that gentleman, yet he had not been 
clear with him ; ' for,' says he, ' he is the King, and I very 
well know him to be so.' Upon which, the merchant deny- 
ing it, saying that he was mistaken, the master answered : 
' I know him very well ; for he took my ship, together 
with other fishing vessels at Brighthelmstone, in the year 
1648 ' (which was when I commanded the King my father's 
fleet, and I very kindly let them go again.) ' But,' says he 
to the merchant, ' be not troubled at it ; for I think I do 
God and my country good service, in preserving the King, 
and by the grace of God, I will venture my life and all for 
him, and set him safely on shore, if I can, in France.' 
Upon which the merchant came and told me what had 


passed between them ; and thereby found myself under a 
necessity of trusting him. But I took no kind of notice of 
it presently to him ; but, thinking it not convenient to let 
him go home, lest he should be asking advice of his wife, 
or anybody else, we kept him with us in the inn, and sat 
up all night drinking beer, and taking tobacco with him. 1 
And here I also run another very great danger, as being 
confident I was known by the master of the inn, 2 for as I 
was standing, after supper, by the fire-side, leaning my hand 
upon a chair, and all the rest of the company being gone 
into another room, the master of the inn came in, and fell 
a talking with me, and just as he was looking about, and 
saw there was nobody in the room, he, upon a sudden, 
kissed my hand that was upon the back of the chair, and 
said to me : ' God bless you wheresoever you go ; I do not 
doubt, before I die, to be a lord, and my wife a lady ' ; so I 
laughed, and went away into the next room, not desiring 
then any further discourse with him, there being no remedy 
against my being known by him, and more discourse might 
but have raised suspicion. On which consideration, I 
thought it best for to trust him in that manner, and he proved 
very honest." [" About a quarter of an hour after, the King 
went to his chamber, where the colonel followed him, craved 
his pardon, saying that he was ignorant of the cause how 
this had happened. ' Peace, peace, colonel,' said the King, 
' the fellow knows me and I him, he was one that belonged 
to the backstairs to my father. I hope he is an honest 
fellow.' After this the Colonel began to treat with the 
boatman, asking him in what readiness he was. He 
answered that he could not be off that night, because for 
more security he had brought his vessel into creek, and 
the tide had forsaken it, so that it was on ground. It is 
observable that all the while the business had been in 

1 The King preferred snuff. 

2 "Who called himself Gaius, runs to the King, catcheth his hand, and 
kissing it, said, ' It shall not be said but I have kissed the best man's hand 
in England. 1 " (Col. Counter's narrative.) 


agitation to this very time, the wind had been contrary. 
The King then opening the window, took notice that the 
wind was turned, and told the master of the ship ; where- 
upon, because of the wind and a clear night the Colonel 
offered ten pounds more to the man to get off that night ; 
but that could not be ; however he agreed to take in his 
company that night. When they thought they had agreed, 
the boatman starts back and saith no, except the Colonel 
would insure bark. Argue it they did with him how 
unreasonable it was, being well paid, etc., but to no 
purpose, so that they at last yielded to his valuation of two 
hundred pounds. But then as though he had been resolved 
to frustrate all by unreasonable demands, he required the 
Colonel's bond ; at which that officer began *,o be as 
resolute as he; saying there were more boats to be had 
besides his ; and if he would not act, another should. In 
this contest the King happily interposed : ' he saith right, 
a gentleman's word, especially before witnesses, is as good 
as his bond.' At last the man's stomach came down and 
carry them he would, whatsoever came of it ; and before 
he would be taken, he would run his boat under the 
water ; so it was agreed that about two in the night they 
should be aboard. The boatman in the mean time went 
to provide necessaries ; the vessel lay at Shoreham, four 
miles thence, as yet half laden with coals, which he had 
not sold, most of the seamen being at Brighthelmstone. 
Those he knocks up in the night time, bidding them make 
haste to the vessel, which having slipt its anchors was 
adrift, and that he would himself follow after. In the 
mean time he orders his wife to go and bay a bottle of 
brandy, and another of sack, and to give him clean clothes 
to take along with him. ' But why so late in the night ? ' 
says she : ' would it not do as well in the morning ? ' He 
still urging her, and cutting off all delays ; ' It's the King,' 
said the woman, ' whom I suspect you are to carry over. 
Pray God you may carry him safe, though I and my small 
children should for ever after go a-begging.' Meanwhile 


Colonel Counter persuaded the King to take some rest in 
his clothes, and my Lord Wilmot with him, till towards two 
of the night. Then he called them up, shewing them how 
the time went, by his watch. Horses being led by the back 
way toward? the beach, they came to the boat and found all 
ready ; so the Colonel took his leave, craving his Majesty's 
pardon if anything had happened through error, not 
want of will or loyalty ; how willingly he would have 
waited further but for his family, being many, which 
would want him, and he hoped his Majesty would not. 
His only request to the King was, that he would conceal 
his instruments, wherein their preservation was so much 
concerned. His Majesty promised nobody should know. 
The Colonel abided there, keeping the horses in readiness 
in case anything unexpected had happened. The master 
of the ship went to Shoreham on horse-back, behind one 
of the King's company."] " It being low water, and the 
vessel, not above sixty ton, lying dry, I and my Lord 
Wilmot got up with a ladder into her, and went and lay 
down in the little cabin, till the tide came to fetch us off. 
But I was no sooner got into the ship, and lain down upon 
the bed, but the master came in to me, fell down upon his 
knees, and kissed my hand ; telling me, that he knew me 
very well, and would venture life, and all that he had in 
the world, to set me down safe in France. So about seven 
o'clock in the morning, it being high-water, we went out 
of the port ; but the master being bound for Poole, laden 
with sea-coal, because he would not have it seen from 
Shoreham that he did not go his intended voyage, but 
stood all the day, with a very easy sail, towards the Isle 
of Wight. And as we were sailing, the master came to 
me, and desired me that I would persuade his men to use 
their endeavours with me to get him to set us on shore in 
France, the better to cover him from suspicion. Upon 
which, I went to the men, which were four and a boy, and 
told them, truly, that we were two merchants that had 
some misfortunes, and were a little in debt ; that we had 


some money owing us at Rouen in France, and were 
afraid of being arrested in England ; that if they would 
persuade the master (the wind being very fair) to give us 
a trip over to Dieppe, or one of those ports near Rouen, 
they would oblige us very much, and with that I gave 
them twenty shillings to drink. Upon which, they under- 
took to second me, if I would propose it to the master. 
So I went to the master, and told him our condition, and 
that if he would give us a trip over to France, we would 
give him some consideration for it. Upon which he 
counterfeited difficulty, saying, that it would hinder his 
voyage. But his men, as they had promised me, joining 
their persuasions to ours, at last he yielded to set us over. 
So about five o'clock in the afternoon, as we were in sight 
of the Isle of Wight, we stood directly over to the coast 
of France, the wind being then full north ; and the next 
morning, a little before day, we saw the coast. But the 
tide failing us, and the wind coming about to the south- 
west, we were forced to come to an anchor, within two 
miles of the shore, till the tide of flood was done. We 
found ourselves just before an harbour in France, called 
Fescamp ; and just as the tide of ebb was made, espied a 
vessel to leeward of us, which, by her nimble working, I 
suspected to be an Ostend privateer. Upon which, I went 
to my Lord Wilmot, and telling him my opinion of that 
ship, proposed to him our going ashore in the little cock- 
boat, for fear they should prove so, as not knowing, but 
finding us going into a port of France (there being then a 
war betwixt France and Spain) they might plunder us, 
and possibly carry us away and set us ashore in England ; 
the master also himself had the same opinion of her being 
an Ostender, and came to me to tell me so, which thought 
I made it my business to dissuade him from, for fear it 
should tempt him to set sail again with us for the coast of 
England ; yet so sensible I was of it, that I and my Lord 
Wilmot went both on shore in the cock-boat ; l and going 

1 Tattersall's mate carried the King on his shoulders from the cock-boat to 


up into the town of Fecamp, stayed there all day to 
provide horses for Rouen. But the vessel which had 
so affrighted us, proved afterwards only a French Hoy. 
One particular more there is observable in relation 
to this our passage into France ; that the vessel that 
brought us over, had no sooner landed me, and I given 
her master a pass, for fear of meeting with any of our 
Jersey frigates, but the wind turned so happily for her, 
as to carry her directly for Poole, without its being 
known that she had ever been upon the coast of France." 1 
[" During the passage, the master wondered that his Majesty 
understood their course better than he did. Nor is it to 
be omitted, what an ignorant seaman wittily blurted out 
by chance. The King whilst the vessel was under sail, 
sitting with the master in the cabin, the fellow coming 
in claps down by them and blows the smoke of his 
tobacco in his face ; at which the master being vexed, bid 
him begone quickly, and not trouble the gentleman with 
his smoke. The fellow rising to go out in dudgeon made 
answer: 'A cat might look a King,' a common proverb 
in England."] " The next day we got to Rouen, to an inn, 
one of the best in the town, in the Fishmarket, where they 
made difficulty to receive us, taking us by our clothes to 
be some thieves or persons that had been doing some very 
ill thing, insomuch that before we went away the people 
went into the rooms to see whether we had not stolen 
something or other : but Mr. Sandburne, a merchant, for 
whom I sent, came and answered for us." [" Mr. Sandburn 
and Mr. Parker his partner provided his Majesty with new 
clothes, dividing his old ones betwixt themselves, to be 
kept as holy relics. Good Dr. Earle, then at Rouen, 

the shore, and at the Restoration Charles pardoned six out of a number of 
Quakers for whom this man pleaded. 

1 "They were no sooner landed, but the wind turned and a violent storm 
arose, insomuch that the boatman was forced to cut his cable, and lost his 
anchor to save his boat, for he required of me 8, and had it. I was not 
gone out of the town two hours, but soldiers came thither to search for a tall 
black man, 6 ft. 2ins. high." (Col. Counter's Narrative.) 


heard of his Majesty's arrival, and visited his lodgings, 
where he saw the King but at first took him to be a 
servant of the inn."] " We stayed at Rouen one day, 1 to 
provide ourselves better clothes, and give notice to the 
Queen, my mother (who was then at Paris) of my being 
safely landed. After which, setting out in a hired coach 
I was met by my mother with coaches, short of Paris ; 
and by her conducted thither, where I safely arrived." 2 

1 His Majesty soon changed his quarters to Mr. Scott's, and finally left 
Rouen on 29 October. On the way they slept the night at Fleurie, and were 
met by Henrietta Maria at Morieaux. They came to the Louvre on Thursday, 
20 October. (Fea. ) 

2 " Perhaps the Reader may think it tedious that I have given so large a 
relation of his Majesty's escape from that fight at Worcester ; but it was a 
work so full of wonder and providence, and so many false relations there are 
abroad, that I could do no less than recount all those miseries and hard- 
ships which this poor Prince endured for the sakes of his subjects." (John 
Dauncy, History of Charles II, ed. 1660, p. 127.) 


" Of a tall stature, and a sable hue, 

Much like the son of Kish, that lofty Jew, 
Twelve years complete, he suffered in exile, 
And kept his father's asses all the while. 
At length, by wonderful impulse of fate, 
The people call him home to help the state, 
And what is more, they send him money too, 
And clothe him, all, from head to foot, anew." 

MARVELL, An Historical Poem, 11. 1-8. 

Charles arrives at Paris ; his treatment there Mile, de Mont- 
pensier Duchesse de Chastillon Privations of English Court in 
Paris Factions and quarrels Charles goes to Germany Cromwell's 
spies The King at Coin Attempted conversion of Duke of Gloucester 
The " Sealed Knot" Charles and Spain He fights at Dunkirk- 
Goes to Bruges Death of Cromwell The King goes to Spain 
Charles and his sister Declaration of Breda and proclamation of 
Charles in England He leaves Holland, and lands at Dover Journey 
to London. 

MOROSINI the Venetian ambassador beheld 
Charles' entry into Paris, and writes : " His 
retinue consisted of one gentleman and one 
varlet, and his costume was more calculated to induce 
laughter than respect ; his appearance, in short, being so 
changed, that the outriders who first came up with him, 
thought he must be one of his own menials." This 
account is somewhat curious, since the King was in a 
royal carriage with his mother and brother ; and we 
remember that Sambourne of Rouen had provided him 
with new clothes ; but, as we also hear that Charles was 


indebted to Lord Jermyn for his first clean shirt, it seems 
that the good merchant was not over generous to his 
King and master. Of his travels Charles either said 
nothing, in performance of his promise, or gave ridiculous 
and fictitious accounts, accepted and afterwards retailed in 
perfect good faith, by many of his audience. Not till he 
was on board the "Naseby "in 1660, returning to his king- 
dom, did Charles tell the true story of his wanderings. 

Meanwhile, Buckingham had also escaped from Eng- 
land, and had landed at Rotterdam, where he began 
straightway to slander the King, in obedience to some 
extraordinary whim, saying that Charles " had ill-behaved 
himself in the battle, and that he lay now hidden in some 
gentleman's house, and was happier in his own opinions, 
than if he was upon the throne." Though the King's 
return cheered his friends, we hear that he himself " is 
very sad and sombre, that cheerfulness which, against his 
nature, he strove to assume at his first coming having 
lasted but a few days, and he is very silent always," even 
so that " he said not one word " when told of the surrender 
of Jersey, though James rejoiced over the islanders' valour, 
" his expressions to that purpose having been judged very 
childish by the standers-by, as many of his words and 
actions are daily." To Lady Fanshawe the King seemed 
to have grown strangely coarse in feature and reckless in 
expression ; but Mile, de Montpensier thought precisely 
the contrary ; " il avait la meilleure mine du monde, douce, 
civile, galante." Charles paid his former mistress much 
attention ; " il faisait toutes les mines que Ton dit que les 
amants font " ; " he appeared to me," says Anne-Marie, " a 
timid and diffident lover, who dared not say all he felt, and 
who preferred that I should believe him indifferent to his 
misfortunes, rather than weary me by talking of them. 
For, to other people, he did not speak of the joy he felt at 
being in France, nor of his desire to dance." 

Throughout the winter of 1651-52, "hunting, dancing, 
balls, and masking," and petits jeux were the order of the 


day and night ; and amidst these frivolous surroundings, 
the King's character did not appear to the best advantage ; 
and after an especially earnest protestation of affection, 
Mademoiselle retorted that unless Charles very quickly 
returned to his kingdom, he would hardly regain it. In 
some surprise, Charles replied : " You would not have me 
leave you as soon as I have married you ? " At last 
Mademoiselle's suppressed irritation burst out : " Yes, for 
then I should be more obliged than I am to take your 
interests to heart, and it would pain me to see you dancing 
the tricotet and amusing yourself, when instead you should 
either get knocked on the head or replace your crown 
upon it, of which you would be unworthy if you would not 
go to seek it at the point of the sword and the peril of 
your life." This seems rather hard on the unfortunate 
Charles, fresh from the horrors of his last attempt for the 
crown, but it sufficiently shows Mademoiselle's impetuous 
temper, and also her irrepressible, though only half-acknow- 
ledged, dislike to the match. Finally, the lady grew 
openly cold, and offended the King, who promptly fell 
in love with Isabelle Angelique, widow of the Due de 
Chastillon. At his first visit to the French Court, Charles 
had shown a distinct preference for this lady, which had 
been rather encouraged than thwarted, because it gave 
him " le bel air," and the lady was far too' much in love 
with her own husband to listen to the young Prince. Now, 
however, Charles even offered to marry the Duchess, until 
at length dissuaded by Hyde, through political considera- 
tions, though the Chancellor and all Charles' Court had 
fallen victims to the lady's wonderful fascination. For 
many years Charles remained on terms of friendship with 
the Duchesse de Chastillon, and under her pet name of 
Bablon, often alludes to her in his letters to his sister 
Henrietta. On 4 December, 1662, he writes from White- 
hall : " You may easily beleeve that any request which 
conies from Bablon will be quickly despatched by me. I 
am striving all I can to take away the difficulties which 


obstruct this desire of hers, which in truth are very greate, 
all these things being farmed, and 'tis not hard to imagine 
that people on this side the watter, love profit as well as 
they do every where else ; I have sent to inquire farther 
into it, and within five or six dayes will give you an 
account, for I am very unwilling not to grante Bablon's 
desires, especially when they come recommended by you. 
In the mean time I referre you to this bearer, Mon r ' 
Vivonne, who will tell you how truly I am, yours, C. R." 
Again, on 28 March, 1663 :"...! am to much Madame 
de Chatillon's servant, to tell her that I am glad that she 
is married into Germany ; if she knew the country, that's 
to say the way of liveing there, and the people, so well 
as I do, she would suffer very much in France, before 
she would change countries, but this is now past, and I 
shall desire you to assure her that, upon any occasion 
that lies within my power, I shall ever be ready to serve 
Bablon. . . ." 

During his stay in France, Charles never ceased to send 
ambassadors to every Court in Europe, in vain attempts 
to raise money and soldiers ; and when Hyde returned to 
Paris from Spain, we find in his correspondence a vivid 
picture of the exile's necessities. Frequently the King 
had hardly credit enough to borrow twenty pistoles ; and 
though Louis XIV, on being asked by Jermyn whether it 
were his pleasure that his aunt and cousins should starve, 
granted them a nominal pension of 6000 livres a month ; 
this money was irregularly and incompletely paid, and 
when paid, most of it passed into Jermyn's hands for the 
household expenses. Sea-port governors in France con- 
tinually made difficulties about harbouring Charles' ships, 
or detained money resulting from the sale of Prince 
Rupert's prizes, so that very little came to the royal coffers 
in that way. It may, therefore, be easily imagined that 
while the King was barely able to dress and eat decently, 
to play tennis and billiards, to visit the country about 
Chantilly, and to indulge the imperious needs of the flesh, 


the courtiers hardly existed at all. Only Jermyn " kept 
an excellent table for those who courted him, and had a 
coach of his own, and all accommodations incident to a 
most full fortune." But for the rest, the following extract 
from Hyde's correspondence is repeated in substance, with 
wearisome iteration, till the departure from Paris in 1654. 
" It is no wonder you should desire to be eased as much 
as may be from all kinds of charges. I am sure I have as 
much reason as any man living to join with you in that 
thrift. Yett I cannot avoid the constant expense of seven 
or eight livres the week for postage of my letters, which I 
borrow scandalously out of my friends' pockets, or else my 
letters must more scandalously remain still at the post- 
house. I am sure all those that concern my private affairs 
would be received for ten sous a week, so that all the rest 
are for the King, from whom I have not received one 
penny since I came hither. And yet it is to no purpose 
to complain, though I have not been master of a crown 
these many months, and cold for want of clothes and fire, 
and owe for all the meat which I have eaten these three 
months, and to a poor woman that is not longer able to 
trust. My poor family at Antwerp which breaks my 
heart is in as sad a state, and the King as either of us, 
being in these very personal distresses. . . ." " It is not 
possible for you to conceive the miserable and necessitous 
condition we are in here ; no servant having received 
one penny since I came hither, and what the King gets 
being not enough to provide him with clothes and meat." 
In September, 1652, Charles was reduced to eat his meat 
in taverns, and in December Hyde had not three sous to 
buy a faggot wherewith to warm his numbed fingers. In 
June, 1653, he says : " I do not know that any man is yet 
dead for want of bread, which really I wonder at ! " In 
November, Sir Richard Browne sent " 100 Lewises in 
gold " towards the King's " merry playing, wherewith to 
passe his time at cards this approaching Christmasse." 
In April, 1654, Hyde and Ormonde lacked shoes and shirts. 


Besides poverty, the Royalists in Paris had to endure 
taunts and reproaches from their brethren in England and 
on the Continent, owing to false reports of their lavish 
and splendid way of living. Moreover, the little Court was 
torn by factions ; at first, the party of the Queen-Mother 
and Jermyn (the Louvrians) against that of Hyde and 
the steadier cavaliers ; and these quarrels, in spite of the 
King's tact and humour, involved breaches between him 
and Henrietta, and between Hyde and the Queen. On 
the occasion of a Court ball, where Hyde appeared, the 
Queen-Mother of France asked Charles who the fat man 
sitting next to the Marquis of Ormonde was. Charles 
replied audibly. " That was the naughty man who did all 
the mischief and set him against his mother." But the 
little which was effected by the King's social diplomacy, 
was rendered futile by his stubborn indolence. " I do not 
forget the letters the King should write, but he never sets 
himself to that work but on Fridays, and that day hath 
been of late spent otherwise by chance, as it is to-day, in 
devotion. . . . When any thing is to be done by the King's 
own hand we must sometimes be content to wait, he being 
brought very unwillingly to that task, which vexes me 
exceedingly. ... By truth itself, he hath more judgment 
and understanding by many degrees than many who pre- 
tend to it, and that is the only thing that breaks my heart, 
that he makes no more use of it." Charles' bad habits at 
this time included, need we say, drunkenness and loose 
living, and we find Hyde employed by the Queen " for the 
removal of a young lady out of the Louvre, who had pro- 
cured a lodging there without her Majesty's consent." 
"All the counsel in the world cannot reform the King, 
while he is with the Queen, and he cannot be severe or 
sharp in things or to persons whom he in no degree 
approves. ... In a word, the King loves both you and me, 
and thinks us very honest and useful servants ; but he will 
sometimes use another, of whom he hath no'; so good an 
opinion, as well, or better, than either of us. If I did not 


serve the King for God's sake I would not stay here a day 

The return of Prince Rupert to Paris in April, 1653, 
added the faction of the " Swordsmen " to the Court, who 
inclined to the Louvrian party, and were quite hostile to 
Hyde ; and in August, to crown the distresses of the faith- 
ful, the King fell ill. " We have been very much afflicted 
this week with the illness of our Master, who hath kept his 
bed these five days with a continued burning fever, and 
been five times let blood. This last night he hath slept very 
well and is now in much better tempers, so that we hope 
all danger is over, but it is a very melancholy thing to 
have him ill." By September he was somewhat recovered, 
though " very weake and not capable of much discourse," 
and he went for a change of air to Chantilly in October, 
which restored him to health. In December, the French 
Court returned to Paris, and festivities began again, with 
masques, plays, and dances. Meanwhile the enforced idle- 
ness in a dissolute capital were ruining the King's character 
and his cause ; and the reports of his way of life, as well 
as the false rumour of his conversion to Catholicism, 1 
spread dissatisfaction among his subjects. " It is too true 
and cannot be denied," writes Hyde to Nicholas, "that the 
King is exceedingly fallen in reputation, which cannot be 
recovered but by some bold attempt. Besides, I must tell 
you he is so much given to pleasure that if he stay here 
he will be undone. Add to this that the usage of the 
French towards him is not to be endured . . . God send us 
quickly from this place." 

But lack of money prevented Charles from leaving 
France as the following letter to Rupert shows : " My 
dearest Cosen, If I had not thought you would have bene 
here before this time, I should have written oftener and 
fuller to you. The truth is, I do only defer the settinge 
down of my going from hence and resolvinge which way to 

1 Caused partly by his occasionally spending the afternoon with the 
Jesuits of the Rue St. Antoine. 


goe till I speake with you. You know what I am promised 
to receive from the French Court for my journey ; in the 
meane tyme, I am sure I am not only without money, but 
have been compelled to bo *v all I have spent neare 
these three months, so thu. _, ou may easily judge how 
some 3600 pistoles will be g'oue, and yett I must expect 
no more from hence, but depend upon what you shall 
bring me for my ships, guns, and my share of the prize. 
I long to have you here, and am intirely, dearest cosen, 
your most affectionate cosen, Charles R." Many compli- 
cations arose about the guns, ending in a quarrel between 
the cousins ; yet on 29 May, Charles was able to take 
formal leave of the French Court, and after unsuccessful 
attempts by Jermyn and others to reconcile him with his 
mother, he left Paris on 10 July, travelling on horseback, 
his coach-horses drawing a light cart with his clothes and 
bedding. That night he was the guest of Mme. de Chas- 
tillon at Merlou ; thence he passed to P6ronne, where the 
French army lay, and bade farewell to his brother James. 
On 14 July he entered Cambrai, and finally reached Spa 
on the i pth. And Hyde writes to Taylor : "The King is 
now as low as to human understanding he can be." At 
Spa, Charles was the guest of his sister Mary of Orange. 
Henceforth, the Court was faithfully attended by Crom- 
well's spies, and it is largely from their reports that we 
know how the exiles spent their time. 

On 6 August, the King writes to Elizabeth of Bohemia : 
" I am just now beginning this letter in my sister's 
chamber, where there is such a noise that I never hope to 
end it, and much less write sense ... I shall only tell 
your Majesty that we are now thinking how to pass our 
time, and in the first place of dancing, in which we find to 
difficulties, the one for want of fiddlers, the other for 
somebody both to teach and to assist at the new dances. 
I have got my sister to send for Silvius as one that is able 
to perform both. For the fideldedies my lord Taafe does 
promise to be their convoy, and in the meantime we must 




content ourselves with those that make no difference 
between a himme ^.ad a coranto." Later John Adams 
the spy writes : " There is not a day or night but there are 
balls and dansinge. I think the ayre makes them inde- 
fatigable, for they danse the whole afternoone, then goe to 
supper and after they goe into the meadows and dance 
there. None so much commended as our King, who 
indeede is growne a lustie and proper person ; gaines the 
affection of all by his affable and free carriage amongst 
them. So doth the Princess Royal who is a gallant lady. 
'Tis admirable in Princes to see how loving they are. The 
Court is full of brave gentlemen, Here is my Lord Ormonde, 
Lord Taafe, Lord Wentworth, Lord Wilmot, Earl of 
Rochester, Chancellor Hyde, and Secretary Nicholas 
expected . . . This morning I was for two hours hearing 
R. C. [Royal Charles] discoursinge sportinge, and drinkinge 
the waters upon a mountain near this towne. R. C. is 
much given to dancinge . . . for all his dancinge, I believe 
he has a heavy heart. . . . He went in a coach with five 
horses this morninge to the fountaine and returned on 
horseback. The traine of R. C. heere is not verie great, 
he has not above thirtie, but they live well and are very 
merry, all of them." The increased cheerfulness was 
partly due to the departure from Paris, and the new 
scenes : but it was soon dissipated by an epidemic of 
small-pox which caused the Court to remove hastily 
to Aachen [Aix-la-Chapelle] on 21 August. "All the 
Cavaliers here doe bathe themselves daylie, but R. C. him- 
selfe since his coming hither appeares not abroade at all. 
The reason I do not know, but matter of state, as with 
Princes." The reason was business : among other things, 
" R. C." had heard of Middleton's defeat in Scotland, and 
declared that he would rather die honourably than " live in 
such contemptible calamityes." On 7 September, Charles 
and his sister attended vespers in the Cathedral, and after 
service examined the relics, and the King drawing Charle- 
magne's sword out of the scabbard, and saluting it 


reverently, measured it with his own. After this, Mary 
began to take the waters, her brother walking every morn- 
ing to meet her at Caesar's Bath, dressed in black with 
white silk stockings, wearing the blue ribbon and Garter ; 
and accompanied by five or six gentlemen. The rest of 
the stay at Aachen was filled by afternoon visits, morn- 
ing hunting-parties, and " mirth, singing, dancing, and 
drinking," at night. 

On Thursday, 8 October, Charles and Mary set out 
towards Coin, sleeping the night at Juliers, and reaching 
Coin about five o'clock in the evening of the 9th. They 
were received enthusiastically by laity and clergy, and 
Charles was finally asked to stay in Coin, which he 
decided to do ; and ever afterwards he retained kindly 
feelings towards the people of the city ; and Evelyn tells 
us that a few days after the Restoration he received a 
congratulatory embassy from Coin, " his Majesty saying 
they were the best people in the world, the most kind 
and worthy to him that he ever met with." On the 29 
October, King and Princess went by water to Diisseldorf 
in order to visit Philip William, Count Palatine of Neu- 
burg ; by him they were magnificently entertained, and 
Charles made a new and true friend in the Count. After 
leaving Diisseldorf the King went on with his sister, on 
her way to Holland, leaving her on 5 November, and 
returned to Coin. 

At Coin that winter, the courtiers were occupied in 
internal dissensions, thereby greatly pleasuring the Palais 
Royal faction. Charles "betook himself with great 
cheerfulness to compose his mind to misfortune, and with 
a marvellous contentedness prescribed so many hours 
a day to the study of both the French and Italian 
languages." For exercise the King hunted and walked, 
for he kept no coach all the time he was at Coin. From 
one hunting "none returned sober but the greatest and 
Tom Elliot to attend him." " All that' I can say now is 
that R. C. is here with a few in his company. The 

COLN ng 

weather is very cold, and so almost every day he walks 
with his said company a-foot about the walls of this 
city, and they all bare-headed after him ; so they get 
themselves health." Also colds, we imagine : and it 
would doubtless have been better for many of the 
courtiers if periwigs had come into fashion : we have a 
witness to their warmth in a letter of the French ambas- 
sador de Comminges to M. de Lionne, 7-17 July, 1664. 
" Pour ne vous pas laisser alarme de la maladie, vous 
sgaurais qu'il y a quatre ou cinq jours que le Roy avec les 
Reines allerent en barges voir les vaisseaux qui sont 
sortis du Port de Chatam, et que durant la grande ardeur 
du soleil, le Roy quitta sa perruque et son pourpoint ; a 
son retour il se trouva fort enrhume', ce qui obligea les 
mddecins de le faire saigner. Le lendemain il se trouva 
avec un peu de fievre, et ce matin il a beaucoup sue", et se 
trouve fort soulage, et sans aucune Chaleur." 

As regards money the King was better off at Coin 
than ever before during his exile, for the Coiners had given 
him a " house, firing, bread, and wine " ; and under the 
careful management of Sir Stephen Fox, his household 
and its expenses were being reduced to tolerably good 
order. Of the lighter relaxations we get many glimpses 
in Charles' letters to Henry Bennet, 1 and others : " Harry, 
you may easily believe that my approbation for your 
coming hither would not be very hard to get, and if you 
had no other business here, than to give me an account 
how Arras was relieved, or who danced best at the mask 
at Paris, you should be as welcome as I can make you. I 
will not say any more to you now, because I hope it will 
not be many days before you will see how we pass our 
time at Collen, which though it be not so well as I could 
wish, yet I think it as well as some of you do at Paris ; at 
least some that are here would not pass their time so well 
there as they do here, and it may be you will be one of 
that number. One of the greatest alterations you will find 
1 Afterwards Lord Arlington. 


here is, that my Lord Taff is one of the best dancers in 
the country, and is the chief man at all the balls ; I believe 
he is as good at it, as one of your friends at Paris is at 
making French verses ; I have nothing to add to this, 
but to tell you you will find me still a true Bablon. 1 
Charles Rex." 2 

The most serious business which occupied Charles and 
his advisers now was the attempted conversion by 
Henrietta of Henry, Duke of Gloucester. The boy had 
arrived in Paris before the King's departure, but could not 
accompany his brother, owing to his youth and the 
increased expense his presence would entail. Charles left 
the little Duke with the charge to obey his mother in 
everything save religion ; to " never miss the chapel on 
Sunday morning. . . . Intend your book and your exer- 
cises diligently, and sett some tyme apart every daye to 
spend at your book with your tutor, and be always kind 
and regardful to him." Seizing on an excuse of removing 
him from bad company, the Queen opened her attack 
almost immediately after the King's departure, and con- 
tinued her campaign by alternate caresses and threats, 
and finally by force, so that had it not been for Henry's 
courage, his page John Griffith's devotion, and the timely 
arrival of Ormonde, the Catholics might have gained an 
important royal convert, exactly when it would have been 
fatal to the King's interests. Henry's letters to his brother 
were intercepted, until one of 6 November, 1654 : " Sir, 
on Wednesday last I came from Pontoise, and to-day the 
Queene spoke to me about my religion, telling me that 
she would have me instructed in hers. Upon that I told 
her what commands the King my father left me, and what 
the instructions were that I had received from your 
Majesty, both to shew the care your Majesty had of me 
in that, and also to shew that it came from your Majesty's 
self, and upon that I did desire that the Queen would 

1 I.e. servant of Mme. la Duchesse de Chastillon. 
* 22 December, 1654. 


write to your Majesty before I should heare any disputing. 
Then the Queen told me that I being to go to Mr. Crofts, 
she did not think fitting that Mr. Lovell should goe with 
me, but that he should stay here till I should come bake, 
and that she did not intend to put him away, but to absent 
him for a little while, and for the time that he shall not be 
with me she will allow him a pension. This is all that 
was sayd to me now, and when anything else shall be sayd 
to me, I shall not faile to give your Majesty an account, 
as becomes your Majesty's most affectionate, most 
obedient, and most humble, brother, subject, and servant, 
Henry." When this reached Charles, the Duke's first 
letter had also arrived, and Hyde says : " I have never 
seen the King so awakened as in this business, ... in so 
great trouble and perplexity, nor of that quicknesse and 
sharpnesse in providing against a mischief." Charles at 
once wrote to Henry as follows : " Dear Brother, I have re- 
ceived yours without a date, in which you mention that Mr. 
Montagu has endeavoured to pervert you in your religion. 
I do not doubt but you remember very well the commands 
I left with you concerning that point, and am confident you 
will observe them. Yett the letters that come from Paris 
say it is the Queen's purpose to do all she can to change 
your religion, which, if you herken to her, or to any one 
else in that matter, you must never thinke to see Englande 
or me againe, and whatsoever mischiefe shall falle to me 
or my affairs upon this thing, I must lay all upon you as 
being the only cause of it. Therefore consider what it is 
not only to be the cause of the ruine of a brother that 
loves you so well, but also of your King and country, and 
doe not lett them persuade you either by force or fine 
promises. For the first they will neither dare, nor will 
use, and for the seconde, as soon as they have got you 
they will have their end and will care no more for you. I 
heare also that there is a purpose to put you into the 
Jesuits' College, which I command you, upon the same 
grounds, never to consent to. And whensoever anybody 


shall goe to dispute with you on religion do not answer 
them at all, for though you have reason on your side, yet 
they, being prepared, will have the advantage of anybody 
that is not upon the same security that they are. I have 
commanded this bearer, my Lord of Ormonde, to speake 
more at large to you upon this subject, therefore give him 
credit in all that he shall say to you, as if it were from my- 
self. And if you doe not consider what I say to you, remem- 
ber the last words of your deade father, which were, to be 
constant in your religion, and never to be shaken in it ; which, 
if you do not observe this, shall be the last time you will 
ever heare from your most affectionat brother, Charles R." 
On the arrival of the second letter, Charles wrote : " Deare 
Brother, I have received yours of the 6th of this month, 
and am very glad to find, both by your own letter as 
well as by others, your handsome carriage in this businesse, 
which really has joyed me so much, that I cannot say 
enough to thank you for it, and to encourage you in the 
continuance of that which you have so well begun." 
Ormonde, by care and shrewdness, and at the expense of 
an open rupture with the Queen, finally rescued the Duke, 
and travelling through Holland, the boy reached Coin 
in May. 

In February, 1655, the King seriously alarmed his 
followers by disappearing from Coin, leaving no clue as 
to his intended destination. As a matter of fact, Charles 
went to Middelburgh in Zealand, hoping to be called to 
England by the " Sealed Knot " and other Royalists ; but 
a premature rising being easily suppressed, Charles retired 
in April to Coin. The expenses of this expedition, and 
other causes, had reduced the King and Court to extreme 
poverty, and factions were as prevalent as ever. " The 
King hath not money enough to provide meate for himself 
for the next 10 days, nor have I, at any time, seen the 
Court in greater want, save that there is not any impor- 
tunity from the inhabitants of this place for the money 
dew to them. And yet of 2000 dollars borrowed from one 


person to inable the King to make his last journey, there 
remayne still 1200 unpayd. Add to this three months 
arrears soe much there will be on Thursday next for 
boarde wages to the family, and the extreame necessity 
many honest men are in who came lately, and indeede 
come every day from England and Scotland ; and then 
think with yourself how easy this place is like to be to the 
King and those who are trusted in his affairs. There is 
nothing to support all these pressures but the expectation 
of the money from the German Princes who are so slow in 
paying though they multiply their promises." Meanwhile 
Charles and Henry both studied Italian, and James or 
Bennet sent from Paris the Gazette Burlesque, and some- 
times songs of the last ballet. On 25 May, the King wrote 
to Bennet : " Pray send me some of Dupre's opiat and 
water for the Teeth ; " on 8 June : " Do not forget to send 
me the Gazette Burlesque every week;" on 5 July: "My 
cloaths are at last come, and I like them very well all but 
the sword, which is the worst I ever saw. I suspect very 
much that it was you that made the choice, and therefore 
you have no other way to recover your judgment in that 
particular but to make choice of a better, and, if you go to 
the shop where I bought mine when I came out of Paris, 
you can hardly be mistaken. My brother can tell you 
where it is;" on 17 August : "You must not expect to 
hear from me very often as long as my sister is here, for 
you may easily guess that I will be in her company as 
much as I can while she stays here ; and indeed Collen is 
not a little altered ; for from having very little company, 
and some of those worse than none, we have now as good 
as can be, and pass our time as well as people can do that 
have no more money, for we dance, and play as if we had 
taken the Plate fleet, though I am confident our losses are 
not so great as Cromwell's is, who for certain has received 
a very considerable one at Hispaniola : the particulars 
hereof you will hear from others. I have no more to say 
at present. Charles Rex;" on 18 August: "I will try 


whether Sir S. Compton be so much in love as you say, 
for I will name Mrs. Hyde before him so by chance, that 
except he be very much smitten it shall not at all move 
him. Pray get me pricked down as many new corrants 
and sarrabands and other little dances as you can, and 
bring them with you, for I have got a small fiddler that 
does not play ill on the riddle. Charles Rex ; " on 14 
September : " My sister and I go on Monday next to the 
Fair at Frankfort incognito, ... It shall be hard but I 
will find some businesse for you to come where we are this 
winter, which I hope will not be in this place. Charles 
Rex;" on 18 October: "... P.S. I have given Buckley 
a note for you to keep the mill going, it should have been 
more if I had had it" In October, Bennet sent the sword, 
saying : " It hath the approbation of men of the profession, 
which makes me hope your Majesty will like it. The 
workman by the Louvre made it." 

The Mercurius Politicus of 25 October, 1655, tells us 
of the journey to the Fair : " Having been lately at Frank- 
fort Fair, I saw there the Scottish King, as they call him, 
with whom there was his sister the Princess of Orange, 
and his youngest brother, Henry, who travelled all together 
from Cologne to Frankfort. That they might seem to go 
the more privately they took no great retinue with them. 
Charles had for his attendants, the Marquis of Ormonde, 
the old Lord Goring, 1 and Mr. O'Neil, groom of his bed- 
chamber. Of the attendants of his sister of Orange there 
was my Lady Stanhope and Heenvliet her husband, and 
Mrs. Lane, together with some inferior servants. When 
they went from Cologne, they were in a coach with six 
horses, and in this equipage they marched beyond Bonn, 
the place where the Elector of Cologne used to keep his 
Court. The next day they had a pleasure-boat met them, 
wherein they all embarked themselves, and so were drawn 
up the river all the way to Frankfort. Their way of 
travelling was very convenient, for, besides the greater, 

1 Earl of Norwich. 


they had two lesser boats fastened to it. In one they 
conveyed all their beds, trunks, and wardrobes, and they 
made a kitchen of the other, which was a very fine accom- 
modation for this water voyage that continued for four or 
five days, having all their victuals dressed at hand, and at 
table there was no state or distinction among them, eating 
altogether, as I hear, to make the more merry. In the 
acting of this frolic they would needs pretend to pass 
incognito, yet carried the matter so notoriously that it was 
known all abroad, and therefore, in every Prince's country 
they passed through, they had the civility of a compliment 
by their chief officers, and were saluted by the great 
ordnance of all their towns and castles. But the compli- 
ment was most remarkable in the Elector of Mayence l 
country, whose grandmaster came and invited them to his 
master's court. But at present they put off the invitation 
with an excuse, and sent a lord, the Lord Newburgh, back 
with the Marshal to give the Elector thanks, and to let 
him know their great occasions at Frankfort Fair could not 
be dispensed with then, but in their return they would not 
fail to visit his Electoral Highness." 

While at Frankfort, Charles met the eccentric Christina 
of Sweden at Konigstein, and refused to meet his renegade 
cousin Charles Louis, Elector Palatine of the Rhine, even 
leaving the theatre to avoid speaking to him. For, unlike 
Rupert and Maurice, the Elector had shown strong Parlia- 
mentary sympathies, until the murder of his uncle forced 
him to some show of decent disapproval. In November, 
the Court returned to Coin; and "all our company very 
well pleased with our voyage, for indeed it was as pleasant 
a journey as ever I saw." 

Cromwell had just allied himself with France, and 
attacked Spain ; so in March, 1656, Charles went incognito 
to Brussels to meet the Spanish ministers Fuensaldanha 
and Alonzo de Cardenas. On Wednesday, 8 March, he 
left Coin with two servants and an escort of twelve horse : 

1 Mainz 


leaving his escort outside Spanish territory, he arrived 
on Saturday at the " Sun " Inn, Louvain, whence de Vic 
escorted him to Brussels. Flustered and displeased, the 
Spaniards declined to treat with Charles in person, and 
requested him to retire to Vilvord, a league from Brussels. 
Here Charles spent his time reading Spanish, writing 
letters, and playing cribbage with Rochester and Bennett. 
On 19 March, the King writes to Ormonde: "Pray send 
as good news to-morrow as the wine and mutton was 
to-day. God sende you better lucke at pickett than I 
have with Harry Bennett at cribbadge. If you can find 
no other book in Italian worth sending, lett me have, by 
the first that comes, Pastor Fido" l On 12 April, a treaty 
was signed at Brussels between Charles and Spain ; and 
on Wednesday the iQth, the King went to Bruges, lodging 
at first in the house of the Irish Viscount Taragh, or Tara, 
in the Old Burgh Street. On 3 June he moved to a house 
in the High Street, where he stayed till 7 February, 1658, 
when he went to Brussels. Many Highlanders found their 
way to Bruges during Charles' residence, and astonished 
the natives by their national costume. The King found 
himself once more in great straits for money, to pay his 
old debts at Coin and his new ones at Bruges : still he 
writes to Bennett in Paris, in July, 1656 : " I have nothing 
to say, only that you bespeak six pair of shoes of my 
Paris shoomaker, such as he sent me last, and as many 
pair more made by Dyke, but tell this latter that three 
pair must be black and the other coloured, and a little 
bigger than those he sent me last. Remember to bespeak 
my sword " ; on 1 1 August : " I have taken pills this 
morning ; which hinders me from saying much more to 
you. ... I would have you bring me two beve* hatts. 
For my Lord Bristol's sword I do by no means like it ; do 
not bespeak mine of that fashion. Charles Rex " ; on 
i September: "You will find by my last, that though 

1 By Guarini (1590) : translated by Sir Richard Fanshawe, Ambassador 
from Charles II to the Court of Spain. 


I am furnished with one small fidler, yet I would have 
another to keep him company ; if you can get either he 
you mention, or another that plays well, I would have you 
do it. Charles Rex." 

On n June, 1656, Charles and Henry attended the 
festival of the Society of S. George of Crossbowmen, 
and on 25 June he honoured that of S. John, of archers. 
Charles promised a sum of money to the S. Sebastian, 
and not only gave them, in 1662, a larger amount than 
that promised, but gave a present also to the crossbowmen 
of S. George. While in Bruges, Charles found at least 
one new mistress : Lord Taafe writes to him that Mile. 
d'Imercell of the Brussels Court is charming; "if your 
Majesty be libre, which Mme. Renenbourg saies you are 
nott, having gott a new wan at Briges." This gives a 
little support to a report of one of Thurloe's spies about 
this time, though every word in it need not be believed : 
" There is now a company of French comedians at Bruges 
who are very punctually attended by Charles Stuart and 
his Court, and all the ladies there ; their most solemn day 
of acting it is the Lord's day. I think I may truly say 
that greater abominations were never practised among 
people than at this day in Charles Stuart's court. Forni- 
cation, drunkenness, and adultery are esteemed no sins 
among them, so that I persuade myself that God will 
never prosper any of their attempts." 

During 1656, Hyde and Bristol strove desperately with 
the Spaniards and with each other ; the object of both 
being to induce Spain to help the King to invade England ; 
but Hyde, cautious and practical, sought money first and 
foremost : Bristol, a brilliant visionary, would have started 
the expedition while the King starved, and the troops 
disbanded for lack of pay. One of the conditions of the 
treaty with Spain was that all English or Irish troops in 
the service of France should be called into that of Spain ; 
the commander of these troops was James, Duke of York, 
who was accordingly disappointed and hurt when recalled 


to Brussels that he might take the oath to Spain ; but the 
quarrel between the King and his brother was made up by 
the tactful intervention of Hyde and Ormonde ; and on 
1 1 April, the three royal brothers went to Brussels, where 
they went to the comedy, to dances ; and " played at long 
paume, a Spanish play with balls filled with wire," and 
also at tennis. Nor did Charles sport all his time away, 
but ingratiated himself with Don Juan ; nevertheless, 
according to the "Spanish method," business went on 
very slowly, and was complicated by the death of the 
emperor Ferdinand III. In 1657, Charles desired earnestly 
to join the Spanish army, but was at first refused per- 
mission, and afterwards, when a grudging leave was wrung 
from Don Juan, had not enough money, as Hyde writes 
on 5 September : " I am sufficiently weary of this place ; 
having looked over the state of the debts and finding that 
every bit of meat, every drop of drink, all the fyre and all 
the candles that have been spent since the King's coming 
hither is entirely owed for, and how to get credit for a 
week, is no easy matter. I would I were at Breda." 

In October, Charles went to Bruges, and thence to 
Dunkirk. Here he constantly risked his life in the trenches, 
and on the sands, and was a somewhat happier man, for 
getting even the smell of powder, and of the sea, into his 
nostrils. In July he had written to Bennett : " If this 
winter pass without any attempt on my part I shall take 
very little pleasure in living till the next." The Spanish 
still refusing to help Charles actively till they could be 
satisfied as to the actual readiness of the English Royalists 
for co-operation, Ormonde was sent to England, and 
returned with a hopeless report Meanwhile Charles had 
returned to Bruges, in December, 1657, and by February, 
1658, was in Antwerp, where he was joined by his sister 
Mary. Relations with her had been somewhat strained 
of late ; for the Princess had visited Paris in the winter of 
1657, been won over by the Palais Royal faction, and 
entertained Lord and Lady Balcarres, whom the King 


wished to banish from her presence, as he had banished 
them from his own court. Mary objected with some heat, 
to which Charles replied in a singularly noble and dignified 
letter : "I do not desire that you should prosecute all 
persons I am displeased with, but I certainly may expect 
from the kindness we have always had together that those 
who are justly in my disfavour, and who I have told you 
are so, should not be the better for it, and that all the 
world should see you favour persons who, I think, deserve 
the contrary. I shall, for the present, only name my 
Lord Balcarres, who I cannot choose but take notice of, 
that you have used him much better since I have been 
unsatisfied with him than ever you did before. Judge 
whether I have not reason to be troubled when everybody 
must take notice of this to both our prejudices. I will 
only add this was not so two years ago, and I cannot 
accuse myself of being changed from what I was then ; 
and now, when I have said all this, I do assure you that 
neither anything you have done, nor anything you can do, 
shall ever change me from being, with all the kindness 
imaginable, Yours, &c." The feelings on both sides were 
embittered by a scandal connecting the Princess and 
young Henry Jermyn. 

At Antwerp, the Comte de Marchin was made a Knight 
of the Garter, and shortly after the Marchioness of Newcastle 
gave a great ball. " The ball at my Lord Newcastle's was 
on Wednesday night, where the Duchess of Lorraine, with 
her son and daughter, were, with the King and his brothers 
and sister; M. B., and two or three Frenchmen were also 
there, and a little room was well filled with most of the 
English here, and some of the town. . . . The King was 
brought in with loud music, and all being placed, Major 
Mohun, that was the player, in a black satin robe and 
garland of bays, spake a speech in verse, of his Lordship's 
own poetry, wherein as much was said of compliment to 
his Majesty as the highest hyperbole could possibly ex- 
press. After that they danced for two hours, and then 


my Lady Moore, dressed all in feathers, came in and sung 
a song of the same author's, and set and taught by Nicholas 
Lanier. Then was the banquet brought in, in eight great 
chargers each borne by two gentlemen belonging to the 
court, wines and other drinks, which being dispersed to all 
the company, they danced again for two hours more, and 
Major Mohun, in the same habit, ended all with another 
speech by way of prophecy of his Majesty's establishment." 
The Duchess of Newcastle herself speaks of this ball as a 
small entertainment, "such as his present condition was 
able to afford them. . . . And some other time his Majesty 
passing through the city was pleased to accept of a private 
dinner at my Lord's house ; after which I receiving that 
gracious favour from his Majesty, that he was pleased to 
see me, he did merrily and in jest, tell me, " That he 
perceived my Lord's credit could procure better meat 
than his own ! " " Again, some other time, upon a merry 
challenge, playing a game of butts with my Lord (when 
my Lord had the better of him), ' What ' (said he) ' my 
Lord, have you invited me to play the rook with me ? ' 
Although their stakes were not at all considerable, but 
only for pastime." 

On 8 March, Mary set out for Breda, accompanied by 
her three brothers ; Charles turned back at Wuestwezel 
and went to Brussels. On 18 March, the steward of the 
household, Sir Stephen Fox, writes to Sir Edward Nicholas: 
" We are in the greatest want that ever I saw in this Court, 
nor have I the least hope of our arrears. It may be done 
as a disguise, but it is a very unpleasant one to me, to be 
forced to shift when I am at the end of my credit, and the 
day is come for large payments which have been staved 
off all this while." It was now, too, that Ormonde wrote 
to Hyde : " I must now freely confess to you that what 
you have written of the King's unreasonable impatience at 
his stay in Bruges is a greater danger to my hopes of his 
recovery than the strength of his enemies, or the weak- 
nesse and backwardnesse of those that professe him 


friendship. Modesty, courage, and many accidents may 
overcome those enemies, and unite and fix those friends, 
but I fear his immoderate delight in empty, effeminate, 
and vulgar conversation is become an irresistible part of 
his nature, and will never suffer him to animate his own 
designs and others' actions with that spirit which is requi- 
site for his quality, and much more to his fortune. This, 
to any but to you or him, or from any unlesse a few 
but from mee or from mee at any other time, were too 
bold a lamentation, for so, God knows, it is. But God 
bless him, and fit him for his work." It was just now that 
the business of Lucy Walters was drawing to an end, and 
after scenes of violence on the part of the King's agents, 
and threats and recriminations on that of the discarded 
mistress, the future Duke of Monmouth had been trans- 
ferred from his mother's care to that of Mr. Thomas 

In June, 1658, Charles had an unsuccessful interview 
with De Retz at Zevenbergen, and in August retired to 
Hoogstraaten, where he amused himself with hawking and 
stag-hunting, and finally started on a tour in the United 
Provinces, in the course of which, perhaps, he made that 
secret visit to the Hague in which he was visited by 
Downing, the English ambassador, in the guise of an old 
reverend-looking man with a long grey beard, in grey 
clothes ; his visitor strongly counselled speedy flight from 
Dutch territory, as the King's presence was already known. 
Charles accordingly returned to Hoogstraaten, and pro- 
ceeded to fall in love with Henrietta of Orange, who 
returned his affection ; and on the receipt of the news of 
Cromwell's death, brought to the King by Fox while he 
played at tennis, Charles formally proposed for her hand. 
But when the hopes kindled by the Protector's death faded, 
the Dowager Princess of Orange refused her consent to 
the marriage ; and betrothed her daughter to the Prince of 
Anhalt. " Eating such things as he could get to eat," his 
Court torn by factions and duels which he was powerless 


to prevent, on bad terms with his relatives, torn from the 
woman he loved, Charles' position was truly pitiable. Amid 
all the stormy cries on this side and on that, in this time 
of wavering and indecision, of lost causes and forlorn hopes, 
Hyde and Colepeper alone spoke wisdom. " I hope the 
King will not be prevailed upon to do any sudden thing ; 
we shall have advantages offered if we do not hurt our- 
selves with projects." Thus far Hyde ; Colepeper pointed 
out that Monk was really master of the situation. " The 
way to deal with him is by some fit person ... to shew 
him plainly, and to give him all imaginable security for it, 
that he shall better find all his ends (those of honour, 
power, profit, safety) with the King than in any other way 
he can take. Neither are we to boggle at any way he 
shall propose in declaring himself, let it at the first be 
Presbytery, be King and Parliament, be a third Party, or 
what he will ; so it oppose the present power it will at last 
do the King's business, and after a little time he will and 
must alone fall into the track we would have him to go 
in ; when he is engaged past a retreat, he will want you 
as much as you will want him, and you may mould him 
into what form you please." 

The first week in August Charles spent at Trevuren, 
where he hawked and hunted ; and at 4 a.m., 3-13 August, 
he left Brussels for Calais, intending to cross to Kent ; at 
Hazebrouck he was overtaken by James, to whom he gave a 
letter to the governor of Boulogne, and then went on to 
Calais. Learning there that Kent had not risen, but only 
Lancashire and Cheshire, he decided to try a landing in 
the West, and accordingly went by Boulogne and Rouen 
to St. Malo. But early in September came the news of 
Sir James Booth's defeat in Cheshire ; l and Charles, with- 
out saying anything to his followers, made for Spain, to see 
what his personal influence might do in the coming 

1 Cf. Dryden, Astraa Redux, 11. 145-6 : 

" Booth's forward valour only served to shew 
He durst that duty pay we all did owe." 


conference between Mazarin, Don Luis de Haro, and 
Henry Bennett. 

But, with extraordinary contradictoriness, Charles 
dallied and dawdled on the way through France, as 
though time and treaties were about to wait for him. On 
22 September, Charles, Ormonde, and Bristol reached La 
Rochelle, where, according to Charles, they waited eight 
days for a wind, and then passed on towards Toulouse, 
where the French Court lay. Ormonde was sent thither 
alone, while the King went to Zaragoza, whence he wrote 
to Hyde : " You will wonder to find me no further 
advanced than this place, where I arrived last night, for 
the truth is our greediness of getting into Spain with all 
haste has made us lose this tyme, as it fails out more 
unluckily than could be imagined. For, contrary to all 
expectations, Don Luis is still at San Sebastian's. ... I 
hope God hath decreed all for the best. Our journey 
hitherto hath been very lucky, having met with many 
pleasant accidents, and not one ill one to any of our com- 
pany, hardly so much as the fall of a horse. But I am 
very much deceived in the travelling in Spaine, for, by all 
reports, I did expect ill cheere and worse lying, and 
hitherto we have found both the beds, and espetially the 
meate, very good. The only thinge I find troublesome is 
the dust, and particularly in this town, there having fallen 
no regne on this side the Perineans these four months. 
God keep you, and sende you to eate as good mutton as 
we have every meale." On 28 October, Charles arrived 
at Fuentarabia, in accordance with Don Luis' invitation, 
and was courteously received and attended. 1 Once at the 
seat of business, the King behaved himself with consum- 
mate tact and ability, and won golden opinions from all. 

After extracting innumerable promises, Charles made 
a final effort to secure Mazarin's hearty help by offering 

1 According to one account, Don Luis met Charles, knelt down in the 
muddy road, claspt and kissed his knees, afterwards riding bareheaded beside 


marriage to the Cardinal's niece Hortensia Mancini ; he 
then departed by Hendaye and Bayonne to Flanders. A 
contemporary comment on the King's behaviour at Font 
Arabic says : " He has behaved himself as if he had been 
bred more years in Spain than in France ; all his council 
could not deliver his business better, nor add a syllable to 
what he says. . . . His dexterity and composedness hath 
removed the fatal misfortune of not being [sic], for till 
the King be thought to understand his own business and 
to be able to conduct it, all our striving is against the 
stream ; and towards that good reputation an opinion of 
his industry is as necessary as of his conception." Mazarin 
refused the King's offer, saying that the King of England 
must not stoop so low for a wife. On his journey, Charles 
visited his mother at Colombes ; where " the Queen was 
in great joy at meeting the King, and the pretty princess 
his sister no less. Her Highness is so grown the King did 
not know her, for they brought his Majesty another young 
lady whom he saluted for his sister, and was in that 
mistake till my Lord Gerard undeceived him." Charles 
finally arrived at Brussels on 26 December, " a little 
before it was dark, ... in very good health and very good 
humour." The King now settled down to a life of en- 
forced idleness, having, as it seemed, played his last card, 
and he killed time by writing letters to his little sister, 
while Henry of Gloucester played tennis ; and here begins 
the charming correspondence between Charles and the 
woman he loved best, which only ends with Henriette's 
death : (7 February, 1660) : " Je commence cette lettre 
icy en frangois, en vous assurant que je suis fort aise" de 
quoy vous me grondez ; je me ddis avec beaucoup de 
joye, puisque vous me querellez si obligeamment, mais je 
ne me d6dieray jamais de I'amitie" que j'ay pour vous, et 
vous me donne tant de marques de la vostre, que nous 
n'aurons jamais autre querelle que celle de qui de nous 
deux aimerons le plus 1'un 1'autre, mais en cela je ne vous 
cederay jamais. Je vous envoye celle-ci par les mains de 


Janton, qui est la meilleure fille du monde. Nous parlons 
tous les jours de vous et souhaitons mille fois le jour d'estre 
avec vous. Sa voix lui est revenue quasi tout-a-fait, et elle 
chante fort bien. Elle m'a appris le chanson de ma 
queue, ' I prithee, sweethearte, come tell me and do not 
lie,' et quantite d'autres. Quand vous m'envoyerez le 
scapulaire, je vous promets de la porter toujours pour 
1'amour de vous. Dites a Mme. Boude qui je luy en- 
voyeray bientot mon portrait. Presentement le peintre 
n'est plus en cette ville, mais il reviendra dans peu de jours. 
Mandez-moi, je vous prie, comme vous passez vostre temps, 
car si vous avez etc" quelque temps a Chaillot, par cette 
me"chante saison, vous vous y estes un peu beaucoup 
ennuyee. Pour 1'avenir, je vous prie, ne me traitez pas 
avec tant de ce"remonie, en me donnant tant de Majeste"s, 
car je ne veux pas qu'il n'y ait autre chose entre nous 
deux qu'amitieV' (Addressed) " For deare, deare Sister." 
All the King and his followers could do now was to 
wait, while events shaped themselves in England. Those 
events are too well known to need recapitulation, but an 
interesting letter to Hyde from a London correspondent on 
30 March 9 April, shows us the trend of popular feeling : 
" You cannot imagine how all people here are affected 
with joy at the hope of having a King again. His picture 
is hung up in many places in the streets, and all that goe 
by stop to look upon it ; amongst whom there was one yester- 
day that said he had seen him lately and that he was not 
so handsome as that picture, at which the people were so 
angry that they fell upon the man and beat him soundly ; 
by which you may judge of their inclinations." No 
longer was there any need for Pepys and his friends to 
drink his Majesty's health in the dark security of a cellar, 
or country parsons to pray for him " by periphrasis." On 
Saturday, 28 April 8 May, Sir John Grenvile delivered 
the King's letter to Monk, and on Tuesday, i-n May, the 
letters and the Declaration of Breda were read to Lords 
and Commons, who immediately voted ; 50,000 for the 


King's immediate expenses ; while his Majesty's letter 
to the city produced 10,000. On 8-18 May, Charles was 
proclaimed King. 

Almost at the last moment, two causes might have 
delayed or prevented the Restoration. Spain would 
have detained Charles in her territories till important con- 
cessions had been wrung from him, but getting wind of 
their intentions, the King left Brussels at 3 a.m. on the 
21-31 March, and came that night to Breda. Again, 
Monk, lending an ear to Hyde's innumerable enemies, 
objected to his attendance on the King, but was finally 
persuaded to accept him. King and Lord Chancellor 
were kept incessantly busy in answering the countless 
letters and messages of congratulation which poured in, 
and in despatching innumerable details of personal, as well 
as of public business. A letter dated " Bruxselles, 12 April, 
1660," from Charles to the Earl of Lauderdale, shows the 
extreme caution which was even then necessary. " I have 
received yours of the 16, you will easily beleeve that I am 
very glad you are at liberty, and in the place where you 
can do me most service, by disposing your frindes to that 
temper and sobriety which must be a principle ingredient 
to that happynesse we all pray for. ... I know not how 
in this conjuncture to give our frindes you mention 
any direction or advise, sinse what they are to do must 
depend upon what is done somewhere else. I hope wee 
shall shortly meete, and then you will meete with all the 
kindenesse you can wish from Your most affectionate 
frinde, Charles R." 

On 8-1 8 May, deputies of the States-General invited 
Charles to the Hague, and on the 14-24 he set out with 
his brothers, sister, and nephew, travelling partly by coach 
and partly by water, with military escorts and amid 
shouting crowds, and entered the Hague attended by 
seventy-two six-horse coaches, led by the State trumpeters 
in crimson velvet. A magnificent banquet was given him, 
and he afterwards said that " he had never supped better 


than on the day he came to the Hague." He slept in a 
bed originally made for his sister. The States gave him 
60,000, and 30,000 for his expenses ; and granted 
7500 to each of his brothers. While at the Hague, the 
King was besieged by crowds of place-seekers and 
sycophants, " to make an early offer of their subjection," 
who "being one day with their King in his apartment, 
boasting of their loyalty and services, he called for wine, 
and applying himself to the Duke of York, drank to the 
health of those gentlemen," saying " that he was now even 
with them, having as he thought done as much for them as 
they had done for him." From the Hague, where cynicism 
might be expected to be uppermost in the King's mind, he 
wrote thus to his sister : " Je vous ecrivis la semaine passe, 
et croyait 1'envoyer dans le paquet de Janton, mais elle 
avait ferm le sien, de sorte que j'etais contraint de donner 
ma lettre a Mason. J'ay la votre du 28 ou j'ay trouve 
tant de marques d'amiti6 que je ne savais trouver de 
parolles pour exprimer ma joye. En recompense, je vous 
assure que je vous aime autant que je le puis faire, et que 
ny 1'absence, ni aucune autre chose, puisse jamais me 
detourner en la moindre fagon de cette amitie" que je vous 
ay promise, et n'ayez point peur que ceux qui sont present 
auront 1'avantage sur vous, car croyez-moi, I'amitie que j'ay 
pour vous ne peut pas estre partaigee. J'ai envoy 6 a Gen- 
tesau de me faire des habits pour I'e'ste^ et je luy ay donne 
ordre de vous apporter le ruban, afin que vous choissiez la 
garniture et les plumes. Je vous remercie pour la chanson 
que vous m'avez envoy ; je ne sgay pas si elle est jolie, car 
Janton ne la sgait pas encore. Si vous saviez combien de 
fois nous parlons de vous, et vous souhaitons icy, vous 
diriez qu'on souhaite fort de vous voir, et faites moy la 
justice de croire que je suis tout a vous. C. R. Pour ma 
chere, cheVe sceur." 

Charles received and returned the visits of the States- 
General and the States of Holland, and on 16-26 May, 
he received the committee of the English Lords and 


Commons. The money that Sir John Grenvile brought from 
England so delighted the King that he called his brothers 
and sister to look at the gold as it lay in the portmanteau ; 
and his joy might well be great, since the best clothes worn 
by him and his courtiers for some time before had not been 
worth forty shillings. On 17-27 May, the King wrote to 
Monk : " I need say little to you since I have informed 
Dr. Thomas Clarges of my purpose, and he will tell you 
with what difficulty I get one quarter of an hour to myself. 
I have thought the best I can of the place where I should 
disembark, and have heard several opinions upon it, and 
upon the whole matter have resolved, God willing, to land 
at Dover, and to stay some days at Canterbury to put 
things into as good order as I can. I resolve, if it please 
God, to embark on Monday, or Tuesday at the furthest, so 
that you will be able to judge as well as I when I shall be 
able to land. But you can hardly imagine the impatience 
I have to see you, for, till then, I shall take no resolution 
of moment. I pray bring Mrs. Monk with you and 
believe me to be, very heartily, your affectionate friend, 
Charles R." From other sources we get glimpses of why 
it had been so hard for Charles to " get one quarter of an 
hour to himself" for the last few weeks. Even at Breda, he 
had had many visitors ; James Sharpe writes from Breda 
to James Wood : " I came very seasonably to his Majesty 
at Breda upon the 8 May ... I wondered to heare him 
speak of all the passages as to persons and things when he 
was in Scotland with as full a remembrance and exact 
knowledge as if they had been recently acted, and he had 
latly come from thence ; he is indeed a most excellent 
prince, admirably improven by his long afflictions, . . . 
he asked kyndly how it was with yow," as with others, 
" and also with others whom he knew . . ." Pepys went 
on 17 May l to kiss the King's hand, and says : " The King 

1 On 22 May James and Henry went on board the " Naseby," the one in 
yellow trimmings, the other in grey and red : they viewed the ship all over 
and dined on board. (Pepys.) 


seems to be a very sober man ; and a very splendid Court 
he hath in the number of persons of quality that are about 
him, English very rich in habit. From the King to the 
Lord Chancellor, who did lie bed-rid of the gout : he spoke 
very merrily to the child and me ... I and the rest went 
to see the Queen [of Bohemia] who used us very respect- 
fully ; her hand we all kissed. She seems a very debonaire, 
but plain lady." Another curious visitor to the Hague 
was the Presbyterian minister Mr. Case, who was allowed 
to hear and see Charles in apparently fervent prayer 
for his and the kingdom's guidance and welfare, which of 
course entirely delighted the old man ; but presuming later 
on his apparent favour with the King, Charles told him that 
he did not know that he had made him one of his Council. 
" There was, in a manner, no night between Tuesday and 
Wednesday, particularly for those who, finding no nook or 
hole to put their heads because the houses were not able 
to contain the people who flocked thither from all parts of 
the neighbouring country, for the most part were con- 
strained to walk the streets." At 2 a.m. the drums beat 
to assemble the soldiers and citizens ; the King rose early l 
to receive the States of Holland. A procession of Dutch and 
English on horseback went from the Hague to Schevening, 
Charles riding bareheaded and dressed in black or purple 
in the middle of the three foremost horsemen. The King 
was met by Montagu, Stayner, Crew, and others, and 
greeted Montagu with a kiss, and entered his shallop with 
all his relatives, while the Royal Standard was hoisted, and 
the sailors shouted and threw their caps and doublets into 
the air. At eleven o'clock the royal party boarded the 
" Naseby," newly decked with silken flags, scarlet coverings, 
and the like, and dined in the coach.' 2 After dinner the King 
changed the names of the ships in the fleet, as that of the 
" Naseby " to the " Royal Charles." 3 That done, the Queen, 

1 And dressed in a plain-stuff suit, with a plume of red feathers. 

2 For the whole voyage, etc., cf. Dryden, Astraa Jfedux, 11. 216 sqq. 

3 Taken by the Dutch in 1667 ; figurehead still in Rotterdam. 


Princess Royal, and Prince of Orange took leave of the 
King, and the Duke of York went on board the " London " 
and the Duke of Gloucester on the " Swiftsure." " Which 
done, we weighed anchor, and with a fresh gale and most 
happy weather we set sail for England. All the after- 
noon the King walked here and there, up and down (quite 
contrary to what I thought him to have been) very active 
and stirring. Upon the quarter-deck he fell into discourse 
of his escape from Worcester." He supped alone in the 
coach. On the way, the royal fleet came to Rotterdam, 
and the King's ship was visited by the Burgomaster, amid 
salutes of gun, the whole harbour being decorated with 
English colours. Charles stood amidships in a wig and 
dark clothes, bareheaded, to receive the Burgomaster. On 
the 25th, being close to land, the King and his brothers 
ate pease and pork and boiled beef for breakfast ; and 
before disembarking, Charles measured and marked his 
height at the upper end of the coach- table. 

The King arrived at Dover about two o'clock in the 
afternoon, 1 and went ashore in Lord Sandwich's barge ; on 
landing he fell on his knees and thanked God for his 
happy restoration ; he was then received by Monk, the 
Earl of Winchilsea, and other nobles, on one side ; and on 
the other by the Mayor and Corporation of Dover, bearing 
a rich canopy ; Monk kneeled on one knee and kissed the 
King's hand, and his Majesty embraced him, calling him 
"Father." The Duke of York kissed the General re- 
peatedly, while Henry of Gloucester threw his cap in the 
air, crying, " God bless General Monk." The Mayor then 
rendered up his white staff of office to the King, who 
returned it, receiving next a very rich Bible, which he 
took and said it was the thing he loved above all things 
in the world. After standing a while under the canopy 
and talking with Monk and others the King and the 

1 " In a slashed doublet then he came ashore, 

And dubbed poor Palmer's wife his royal whore." 

Marvell, An Historical Poem. 


Dukes entered a coach. Buckingham, who had been 
chillingly received by the King, was not invited to enter 
the royal carriage with Monk, but nevertheless secured a 
seat in the boot. When the King left the coach on Barham 
Down, Buckingham left it too, and rode bareheaded behind 
him, as his Majesty rode to the head of each of the troops 
of horse drawn up on the Down, commanded by the Earls 
of Oxford, Derby, and others : the Kentish Foot were also 
present. The troops were placed, three deep, on Charles' 
left, and bowing to him, kissed the hilts of their swords, 
and then flourished these above their heads, with no less 
acclamations than the country people shouting round 
about ; and the trumpets also echoing the same. In the 
suburb at Canterbury stood the Mayor and Aldermen, 
receiving the King with loud music, and presenting him 
with a golden cup (or bowl full of gold) worth 250. 
Thence, after a speech by the Recorder, Charles passed to 
Lord Campden's house, the Mayor carrying the sword 
before him. In Canterbury the King stayed till Monday 
the 28th, and while there, knighted Monk and Morice, 
giving the former the Garter, 1 and sending it to Admiral 
Montagu. Charles also found time to write the following 
letter to his sister, on the 26th : " I was so tormented 
with business at the Hague, that I could not write to you 
before my departure, but I left orders with my sister the 
Princess of Orange to send you a small present a from me, 
which I hope you will soon receive. I arrived yesterday 
at Dover, when I found Monk, with a great number of the 
nobility, who almost overwhelmed me with kindnesse and 
joy for my return. My head is so dreadfully stunned with 
the acclamations of the people, and the vast amount of 
businesse, that I know not whether I am writing sense or 
nonsense. Therefore pardon me if I say no more than 

1 James of York put the George on Monk, and Henry of Gloucester the 
Garter. (Ludlow.) 

1 The present was a side-saddle with trappings of green velvet, embroidered, 
and trimmed with gold lace. 


that I am entirely yours. For my dear sister." On the 
Sunday, the King attended service in the Cathedral. 

On Monday, his Majesty came to Rochester, " where 
the people had hung up, over the midst of the streets, as 
he rode, many beautiful garlands, curiously made up with 
costly scarves and ribbons, decked with spoons and 
bodkins of silver, and small plate of several sorts ; and 
some with gold chains, in like sort as at Canterbury ; each 
striving to outdo the other in all expressions of joy." He 
slept the night in the house of Colonel Gibbons, to please 
the army. On Tuesday, the 29th, the King left Rochester 
in his coach, 1 and took horse on the further side of 
Blackheath, where he was greeted by more troops of horse 
and by a morris dance with pipe and tabor by the swains. 
The troops, including the King's Own Life Guards, 
marched before him towards London. Major-General 
Brown, with a troop of young men in silver waistcoats, 
went first : and on the King's right hand, passing through 
Deptford, were " above an hundred proper maids, clad all 
alike in white garments, with scarves about them ; who 
having prepared many flaskets covered with fine linen, and 
adorned with rich scarves and ribbons, which flaskets were 
full of flowers and sweet herbs, strewed the way before 
him as he rode." All the country gentlewomen, as the 
King passed, held up their heads boldly to be kissed, 
instead of pressing a courtly kiss upon his Majesty's hand. 
" From thence passing on he came into St. George's Fields 
in Southwark, where the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of 
London in their scarlet, with the Recorder and other City 
Council, waited for him in a tent hung with tapestry ; in 
which they had placed a chair of state, with a rich canopy 
over it. When he came thither the Lord Mayor presented 
him with the City sword, and the Recorder made a speech 
to him ; which being done, he alighted and went into the 

1 Many knights were made on this journey, and bonfires were to be seen 
in great numbers on the road ; the inconstant multitude burning the badges of 
their freedom, the arms of the Commonwealth." (Ludlow.) 


tent, where a noble banquet was prepared for him. From 
this tent the proceeding was thus ordered, viz. first the 
City Marshal, to follow in the rear of his Majesty's Life 
Guards. Next the Sheriffs Trumpets. Then the Sheriffs 
men in scarlet cloaks, laced with silver on the capes, 
carrying javelins in their hands. Then divers eminent 
citizens well mounted, all in black velvet coats, and chains 
of gold about their necks, 1 and every one his footman, with 
suit, cassock, and ribbons of the colour of his company ; 
all which were made choice of out of the several Com- 
panies in this famous City and so distinguished : and at the 
head of each distinction the ensign of that company. 
After these followed the City Council, by two and two, 
near the Aldermen ; then certain Noblemen and Noble- 
men's sons, then the King's trumpets. Then the Heralds- 
at-Arms. After them the Duke of Buckingham. Then 
the Earl of Lindsey, Lord High Chamberlain of England ; 
and the Lord General Monk. Next to them Garter 
Principal King of arms ; the Lord Mayor on his right hand 
bearing the City sword, and a Gentleman Usher on his 
left : and on each side of them the Sergeants-at-Arms 
with their maces. Then the King's Majesty in a dark cloth 
suit with his equerries and footmen on each side of him ; 
and at a little distance on each hand his royal brothers, the 
Dukes of York and Gloucester : and after them divers of 
the King's servants who came with him from beyond sea. 
And in the rear of all, those gallant troops ; as also five 
regiments of horse belonging to the army. In this fashion, 
his Majesty entered the Borough of Southwark, about 
half-past three o'clock in the afternoon ; and within an 
hour after, the City of London, at the Bridge : where he 
found the windows and streets exceedingly thronged with 
people to behold him, and the wall adorned with hangings 
and carpets of tapestry and other costly stuff ; and in 
many places sets of loud music ; all the conduits as he 
passed running claret wine, and the several Companies in 

1 "Not improperly " is Ludlow the Republican's caustic comment. 


their liveries, with the ensigns belonging to them ; as also 
the trained bands of the city standing along the streets as 
he passed, welcoming him with loyal acclamations." "At 
Paul's School door the ministers of London presented him 
with a Bible. He thanked them for it, and told them to 
this effect : ' That the greatest part of that day's solemnity 
he must ascribe to God's Providence, and that he would 
make that book the rule of his life and government,' and 
desired Dr. Reynolds to bring the Bible to him at White- 
hall. . . . When he came into Paul's Churchyard and he 
cast his eye upon the church and pointed to the Duke of 
York," but his words were lost in the cheering. 

As the cavalcade passed the " King's Head " Tavern, 
in the Poultry, the King's notice was drawn to the balcony 
where the landlady was seated. She was about to present 
his Majesty with a new subject, and was extremely anxious 
to be honoured by some personal attention from the King. 
When this was made known to him, he immediately rode 
up, kissed the fair hostess, amid vociferous cheering. "And 
within the rails where Charing Cross formerly was, a stand 
of six hundred pikes, consisting of knights and gentlemen, 
as had been officers in the armies of his late Majesty ; Sir 
John Stowell, Knight of the Honourable Order of the Bath, 
being in the head of them. From which place, the citizens 
in velvet coats and gold chains being drawn up on each 
hand, and divers companies of foot soldiers, his Majesty 
passed betwixt them, and entered Whitehall at seven 
o'clock 1 : the people making loud shouts, and the horse 
and foot several volleys of shots, at this his happy arrival. 
Where the House of Lords and Commons received him, 
and kissed his hand." " His answer to them was short, 
by reason, as he said, of his present discomposure caused 
by the great acclamations he had received in his passage, 
which yet he pretended had been very agreeable to 
him, as they were expressions of the affections of his 

1 Nine o'clock, according to Evelyn, though he perhaps rather refers to 
the last of the procession, than to the King individually. 


people." These last phrases are those of Ludlow the 
stern Republican, and his next words perhaps form a 
fitting ending to a description of the day's proceedings : 
" the dissolution and drunkenness * of that night was so 
great and scandalous, in a nation which had not been 
acquainted with such disorders for many years past, 2 that 
the King, who still stood in need of the Presbyterian party 
which had betray'd all into his hands, for their satisfaction, 
caused a proclamation to be publish'd, forbidding the 
drinking of healths. But resolving, for his own part, to 
be oblig'd to no rule of any kind, he publickly violated his 
own order in a few days, at a debauch in the Mulberry 
Garden ; and more privately at another meeting in the 
City, where he drank healths to the utmost excess till two 
in the morning." 3 The King himself, this night of the 
completion of his restoration, slept in the arms of Barbara 
Palmer, either in his palace of Whitehall, or in the house 
of Sir Samuel Morland, the double-dyed traitor and spy. 

We have many records of the joyous celebrations of 
the Restoration in the country places : and among them 
the following are not the least interesting: "Such universall 
acclamatiens of witte and sober joy I never yet saw . . . 
we had our Bonfire too and Bells ringing even at Claydon 
. . . Heaven and earth seem to conspire to make a faire and 
fruitfull springe of plenty and joy to this poore kingdome ; 
the seasonableness of which mercy now the general face 
of Christendom seems to look peaceable, ads much to our 
present happines. The fields and pastures begin to put 
on their best dress as if it were to entertaine his Majesty 
in Triumph and make him in love with his Native soyle. 
. . . Sure in the Middest of all our rejoicings it will be 
very difficult to satisfy ye Expectations of men and for 

1 It is, perhaps, appropriate that a tavern should soon be called the 
" Restoration," and another, near Charing Cross, the " Pageant," or 
" Triumph," in memory of the arches there set up. 

* Unfortunately a misconception of the worthy Major-General's. 

3 The Household Books of Sir Miles Stapleton of Carlton, contain entries 
of expenses for bonfires on his various estates at this time. 


Majesty to walk so evenly as not to give offence to our 
formerly dissenting grandees ; ye Lord give them all 
wisdome and moderation." And again : " Mr. Abell read 
the King's letter and declaration to his neighbours after 
church, and haveing shewed them what a gratious King 
they had, he moves them to see what they would do for 
him, and to begin lays downe 9/. 165-. 2d. which was his 
owne proportion of the monthly taxe, and soe desires the 
like of them all rich and poore ... 25^ was gathered, and 
to Aylesbury he and some other of his neighbours carryed 
it, where they would have payed it to the Treasurer, but 
he would none of it, as having no order to receive it ; then 
at the Petty Sessions he sends to the Justices to acquaint 
them of the money ; they made themselves merry at it, 
but would not take the money. So I heare he has now 
come up to London it may be to meet his Majesty and 
acquaint him with his doings, for he told his neighbours 
the King should know of their forwardness." Well might 
Charles say laughingly : " It is certainly a mistake that I 
did not come back sooner ; for I have not met any one 
to-day who has not professed to have always desired my 
return ; " and Clarendon write bitterly : " From this time 
there was such an emulation and impatience in the Lords, 
Commons, and City, and generally over the Kingdom, 
who should make the most lively demonstrations of their 
joy, that a man could not but wonder where those people 
dwelt who had done all the mischief and kept the King so 
many years from enjoying the comfort and support of 
such excellent subjects." 




" Quod optanti Divom nemo promittere auderet, 

Volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro." 
Motto prefixed to Cowley's Ode on his Majesty's Restauration and Return* 

The King's personal appearance and qualities His accomplish- 
ments and learning Charles as author His dogs Newcastle's 
advice to the restored King Monk Charles at the Council-table 
The Regicides' fate Act of indemnity The Convention Parliament 
The Cavalier Parliament and religion The Army Finance 
Charles and his divines Growth of scientific spirit Charles as scientist 
Touching for the King's Evil Superstitions The King's Marriage 
Katherine of Braganza Court amusements Tunbridge Wells 
" Flatfoot, the Gudgeon-taker "Second Dutch War The Plague 
The Fire. 

THE poems on the Restoration were of course 
innumerable, and for the most part set to the 
same strain of adulation. Like most Royalists, 
Dryden compared Charles in exile to David in a similar 
state, and this adds point to Marvell's lines on the Restora- 
tion quoted at head of Chapter IV. 

Waller expresses himself very neatly on the King's 
side : 2 

" Rude Indians, torturing all the royal race, 
Him with the throne and dear-bought sceptre grace 
That suffers best. What region could be found, 
Where your heroic head had not been crowned ? " 

1 Cf. Dryden's Astraa Redux ; Waller's To the King upon His Majesty 't 
happy Return : and Marvell's pungent satire, An Historical Poem. Before all 
these gentlemen, however, came Mr. R. Wilde, on 23 May, 1660, with his 
Iter Boreale, celebrating the march of Monk from Scotland to London, and all 
the blessings it had wrought. 

2 In the poem mentioned above. 


But when, later in the same poem, he says : 

" Faith, law, and piety (that banished train), 
Justice and truth, with you return again," 

it seems right to test these remarks by a review of the 
reign of this king "after God's own heart." 

In April of the Restoration year, His Sacred Majesty 
appeared to one of his faithful servants to be a man of this 
fashion : " He is somewhat taller than the middle stature 
of Englishmen, 1 and so exactly form'd, that the most 
curious Eye cannot find one error in his Shape. His Face 
is rather grave than Severe, which is very much softened 
whensoever he speaks. His complexion is somewhat dark, 
but much enlightened by his eyes, which are quick and 
sparkling. Until he was near twenty years of age, the 
figure of his face was very lovely ; but he is since grown 
leaner, and now the Majesty of his countenance supplies 
the lines of beauty. His Haire, which he hath in great 
plenty, is of a shining black, 3 not frizled, but so naturally 
curling into great rings, that it is a very comely ornament. 
His Motions are so easie and graceful, that they do very 
much commend his person when he either Walks, Dances, 
plays at Pal-Maile, at Tennis, or rides the Great Horse, 
which are his usual exercises. . . . To the gracefulness of 
his deportment may be join'd his easiness of access, his 
Patience in attention, and the Gentlenesse both in the 
tone and style of his speech. . . . Amongst his acquired 
endowments, these are the most eminent : he understands 

1 Evelyn says he was five feet ten inches in height. The Parliament set 
the price on the head of a man " above two yards high " after the Battle of 

* He began to go grey soon after the Restoration. Cf. Pepys, 2 November, 
1663. " I heard the Duke say he was going to wear a periwig ; and they say 
the K. also will. I never till to-day observed that the K. is mighty gray. 
The King once said : ' Pray, what is the reason that we never see a rogue in a 
play, but, odds fish ! they always clap him on a black periwig, when it is well 
known one of the greatest rogues in England always wears a fair one ? " The 
allusion was either to Gates or Shaftesbury, and the story was told by 
Betterton the actor to Gibber, who prints it in his Apology, ed. 1760, p. in, 
whence Cunningham reprints it, p. 118. 


Spanish and Italian, 1 speaks and writes French correctly ; 
he is well vers'd in ancient and modern History, hath read 
divers of the choicest pieces of the Politick, hath studied 
some useful parts of the Mathematicks, 2 as Fortification, 
and the knowledge of the Globes ; but his chief delight is 
in Navigation, etc." Tuke afterwards speaks of the King's 
chastity, sobriety, clemency, and restraint from profanity 
and the like ; wherein he is seconded by John Dauncy. 
" To conclude, he is the pattern of Patience and Piety, the 
most Righteous and Justest of Kings ; The most knowing 
and experienced of Princes. The Holiest and the Best 
of Men. The severest punisher of vice ; and the Strictest 
Rewarder of Virtue. The constantest preserver in Religion. 
And the truest lover of his Subjects." Either Dauncy was 
a past master in the art of subtilizing and emphasizing 
eulogy by capitals, full stops, and alliteration, or his com- 
positor was a humourist ; in any case, this exquisite fantasy 
would at once have amused and annoyed Charles, who, as 
he had a sense of humour, was proportionately impatient 
of flattery. Dr. Creighton dedicated a book in an ex- 
travagant style to the king, and Hyde wrote to him as 
follows : "... In the next place you must remember that 
though our Master hath taken great paines, and with 
excellent success, in the modern languages, yet in the 
Latin he is too unskilful, by the inexcusable negligence 
of those who should have laid the foundation ; so that 

1 For Spanish we have the evidence of Charles' personally conducted 
business in Spain ; his recommendation of the play of No puede ser(= " It 
cannot be") in 1685 to Crowne the dramatist, with the recommendation to 
construct another on the same lines, which led to Sir Courtly Nice; his 
remarks on his Spanish to Clarendon, (p. 172) ; and the following note, 
perhaps written to the Chancellor in 1664 : "As you are a lover of musique, 
so you must be a frinde" [Charles' usual spelling] "to ver[t]uosos, Sig r 
Corbetti is going to Brusselles to fetch me some things of his, and I finde that 
faltan los medios, for he hath had nothing of me since he came, therefore pray 
send me a note to Mr. Shaw for two hundred guilders, I must have it to-night, 
because he goes in the morning early." 

2 Burnett, S-uppZ., p. 49. " He knows the inferior parts of the mathe- 
matics, but not the demonstrative." 


when this book shall be presented to him, there is no 
question but that he will command that the Epistle 
dedicatory be translated for him into English ; and I must 
tell you that as there is no Prince this day in Europe who 
deserves greater commendation, so his modesty is so pre- 
dominant over all his virtues, that no gentleman is sooner 
out of countenance with being over-commended. I have 
not in my lifetime seen him more displeased, and more 
angry, than in some few encounters of that kind, and I 
dare swear he will be put to many blushes upon the reading 
of your Epistle, and wish some expressions were away. 
You have not, nor you cannot say too much of the candour 
of his mind ; of the justice and gentleness of his nature ; 
of his affection and zeal to the Protestant religion . . . 
but I beseech you allay those other expressions which he 
will believe belong not to him, which relate to his conduct 
and perfection in war, and to such extraordinary ability, 
as can be got only by experience. . . . Above all I beseech 
you review and allay those two hyperbolical expressions 
of the modesty and severity of our Court, where, God 
knows, the Fabricii nor the Camilli can be found ; and 
these encomiums may possibly call on some reproaches 
upon us which we do as little deserve." 

It was not till the end of Dryden's life that literary 
men began at all to depend upon a reading public, rather 
than individual patrons, for support, and this, added to the 
general laxness of morals, thoughts, and expression, led 
to incredibly false and fulsome dedications both in England 
and France, a few of Dryden's, and one of Moliere's, 
standing out in contrast. Mrs. Aphra Behn's dedication 
of her play, the " Feigned Courtezans," to " the illustrious 
Madam Ellen Gwyn," may serve as an example : " Your 
permission has enlightened me, and I with shame look 
back on my past ignorance which suffered me not to pay 
an adoration long since, where there was so very much 
due ; yet even now, though secure in my opinion, I make 
this sacrifice with infinite fear and trembling, well knowing 




that so excellent and perfect a creature as yourself differs 
only from the divine powers in this the offerings made 
to you ought to be worthy of you, whilst they accept the 
will alone. Besides all the charms, and attractions, and 
powers of your sex, you have beauties peculiar to yourself 
an eternal sweetness, youth, and air which never dwelt 
in any face but yours. You never appear but you gladden 
the hearts of all that have the happy fortune to see you, 
as if you were made on purpose to put the whole world 
into good humour." Again, as a further proof of the 
King's common-sense on this subject, is his well-known 
remark to Riley the painter, on a new portrait of himself: 
" Is that like me ? then, odds fish ! I am an ugly fellow." 

The King possessed an interest in literature, and con- 
siderable taste, especially in the drama, and was ready 
to appreciate anything humorously and wittily written, 
even if it told against himself. He expressed great 
approbation of " Hudibras," and used to carry a copy in his 
pocket. His favourite song was that fine one of Shirley's 

" The glories of our blood and state 
Are shadows, not substantial things." 

He read Marvell's "Rehearsal Transposed," a book little 
likely to please him from some points of view, though its 
humour proved its adequate apology; and he interfered 
when L'Estrange the licenser wished to prohibit the second 
edition of the First Part of that work. He is said to have 
suggested the plan of the " Medal " to Dryden, in i68i, 1 and 
the character of Antonio-Shaftesbury in " Venice Preserved," 
and we possess a song of his own composition, as follows : 

" I pass all my hours in a shady old grove, 
But I live not the day when I see not my love ; 
I survey every walk now my Phillis is gone, 
And sigh when I think we were there all alone ; 
O then, 'tis O then, that I think there's no hell 
Like loving, like loving too well. 

1 Cf. p. 238. David Lloyd mentions "several majestic poems" written 
by Charles in his youth. 


" But each shade and each conscious bow'r when I find, 
Where I once have been happy, and she has been kind, 
When I see the print left of her shape on the green, 
And imagine the pleasure may yet come again ; 
O then 'tis I think that no joys are above 
The pleasures of love. 

" While alone to myself I repeat all her charms, 
She I love may be lock'd in another man's arms, 
She may laugh at my cares, and so false she may be, 
To say all the kind things she before said to me ; 

then, 'tis O then, that I think there's no hell 

Like loving too well. 

" But when I consider the truth of her heart, 
Such an innocent passion, so kind without art ; 

1 fear I have wronged her, and hope she may be 
So full of true love to be jealous of me ; 

And then 'tis I think no joys are above 
The pleasures of love." 

Burnet says that the King "is very little conversant in 
books, and, young and old, he could never apply himself 
to literature." But, we may ask, are kings usually 
possessed of enough leisure to study literature profoundly ? 
and it must be remembered that the good Bishop meant 
by " literature " more weighty things than plays and 
poems ; Charles at least knew a good deal about plays, 
often gave advice to actors, once spoke an epilogue him- 
self, and we know that he read Tom Killigrew's plays at 
least The King's usual time for reading was in the 
morning, while his barber attended him, and he sat by the 
window being shaved or combed. On one such occasion, 
he was reading Killigrew's plays, and that gentleman was 
in attendance as Groom of the Bedchamber. Charles 
asked him, " What account will you give at the day of 
Judgement of all the idle words in this book ? " " Why 
truly, I shall give a better account of all the idle words in 
that book, than your Majesty shall do of all your idle 
promises, and more idle patents, which have undone many, 
but my idle words in this book have undone no person." 


On another occasion, Tom Killigrew told the King, " There 
is a good honest, able man that I could name, that if 
your Majesty would employ, and command to see all 
things well executed, all things would soon be mended ; 
and this is one Charles Stuart, who now spends his time 
employing his lips about the Court, and hath no other 
employment ; but if you would give him this employment, 
he were the fittest man in the world to perform it." 
Again, when the King, alluding to his brother's uxorious- 
ness, said he would go about no longer with that Tom 
Otter 1 and his wife, Killigrew asked him whether it was 
better for a man to be a Tom Otter to his wife or to his 
mistress ? Another morning as the King was being shaved, 
his barber said to him : " I think none of your Majesty's 
officers hath a greater trust than I." " Oh," said the King, 
" how so, friend ? " " Why, I could cut your Majesty's 
throat when I would." " Od's fish ! " said Charles, starting up, 
" that very thought is treason ; thou shalt shave me no more ; " 
and the man was dismissed. Waller hailed the Restoration 
as a specially favourable event for the poets, since 

" Kind Heaven at once has, in your person, sent 
Their sacred judge, their guard, and argument." 

Dryden in the " Threnodia Augustalis " qualifies his remarks 
on this subject very cleverly, and in a letter to Laurence 
Hyde in 1683, says : " 'Tis enough for one age to have 
neglected Mr. Cowley, and starved Mr. Butler." The only 
specimen of the King's prose composition, other than 
epistolary, which we possess is of doubtful authenticity, 
but has a distinctly Carolean ring about it: "We must 
call upon you again for a Black Dog, between a Grey- 
hound and a Spaniel, no white about him, only a streak on 
his Brest, and Tayl a little bobbed. It is his Majesties 
own Dog, and would never forsake his Master. Whoso- 
ever findes him may acquaint any at Whitehal, for the 
Dog was better known at Court than those who stole him. 

1 The henpecked husband in Jonson's Silent Woman. 


Will they never leave robbing his Majesty ? must he not 
keep a Dog ? This Dog's place (tho' better than some 
imagine), is the only place which nobody offers to beg." 
Later his Majesty inquires at different times for "a little 
brindled greyhound bitch, having her two hinder feet 
white ; " "a white-haired spaniel, smooth-coated, with 
large red or yelowish spots;" and "a black mastiff dog, 
with cropped ears and cut tail." The King frequently 
brought his dogs to the council-table, and played with 
them there, instead of attending to business, which Pepys 
calls " siliness." So Prince Rupert's black retriever (or 
poodle?) Boye, used to attend his master everywhere, 
including council ; he was at last killed at Marston Moor, 
to the indecent joy of the Rebels, who had regarded him 
as a familiar spirit. A fondness for dogs was a Stuart 
characteristic : early pictures of the children of Charles I, 
and several portraits of Madame, introduce favourite dogs, 
while Charles II of course gave his name to a breed of 
which he was especially fond. Evelyn remarks on the 
inconveniences attendant on the King's suffering his dogs 
everywhere at Whitehall ; and the King's fondness for 
these animals, caused them to be very fashionable among 
the Court ladies. On one occasion, Charles was entering 
Salisbury in his coach, and a suitor came up and spoke to 
the King, keeping his hand on the coach-door, in spite of 
his Majesty's warning that he would be bitten by one 
of the spaniels within ; this is exactly what happened, 
causing the honest Cavalier to cry out, " God bless your 
Majesty, but God damn your dogs." 

Concerning the other items in Tuke's description of 
the King we will speak as occasion offers, only adding to 
the account of his person that he had a thin line of black 
moustache, and a great " thorough-bass " voice. The 
Marquis of Newcastle favoured his old pupil with another 
long letter of advice on general government, from which 
we will make some quotations : . . . " King James and 
King Charles always about Michaelmas went to Royston 


in stable time, both for hunting and hawking, both at the 
field and at the river this would not only refresh your 
M tie with the sweet ayre and wholesome exercise, but 
unbende your more serious thoughts from the wayght of 
businesse that you would have in London. . . . This, Sir, 
will mentayne healthy and long life better than physicke 
. . . you should prepare Masks for Twelfth Tide, at which 
Etalianes make the sceanes best. . . . Invite every one 
by tickets from the Lord Chamberlayne . . . the Lord 
Chamberlayne to be very carefull that none else enter but 
those who are invited. . . . The second time the play is 
given, the Inns of Court alone should be asked, the 
third time, the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen, with 
the principal merchants and no others, a handsome ban- 
quet every time, and your Ma tie to drink their welcome, 
which would infinitely please them." Also the king must 
give balls and " invite the young ladies, and give them a 
banquet and drink their welcome with thanks. ... Ride 
your horses of manege twice a week, which will encourage 
noblemen to do the like, to wayte of you and make matches 
with your noblemen, so many a side, to run at the ringe, 
for a supper or a playe, or some little Jewell ; besides this 
to be in the Tilt Yard publicly. Upon Coronation Day 
there should be tilting and other horse feats, to make your 
Lords good horsemen and to keepe good horses. Your 
Ma t!e ' s Father of blessed memory was the best man at arms 
I vowe to God that I ever saw, both for grace and sure- 
nesse . . . copper-lace is very cheap, and will make as 
good a show for one day as the beste ; all Queen Eliza- 
beth's days she used itt, and King, James. . . . For game- 
ing serten times your M tie will sett down, 1 as also for 
Tennis and palle malle. Goffe a and other recreations will 

1 The King sometimes formally opened play at the Groom- Porter's by 
losing his ^100. 

2 Charles certainly played this game in Scotland (see p. 40), and as 
James I had founded the Blackheath Golf Club, it is quite possible that he 
continued to do so in England, especially as he could both walk fast and 


do for winter. ..." At Lent the King is to go to 
Newmarket, " the sweetest place in the world and the best 
ayre no place like it for hunting, hawking, and coursing, 
and Horse Races." Charles is to invite " the northern 
lords and gentry that hath the best horses and hounds," 
and to hold hound races "with coloured ribbons." New- 
market is especially suitable because "while there, the 
University will entertain you and send most excellent 
preachers every Sunday." At Easter the King must send 
venison to the great Lords, or rather, great Ladies, " for, 
as Sir E. Coke sayd, the night crowe was powerful, and 
the gray mare is the better horse . . . the great study and 
learning for kinges is not to read bookes, but men. ... I 
should humbly advise your M tie to have a warre with one 
of these greate kinges, and I think it would be best to 
begin with France. When that is over, have one with 
Spayne, and by sea too ; the French will give you money 
for this. . . . Master [London] and master the whole King- 
dom, disarm it totally, and arm yourself. But hide your 
forces, for the people loves not the cudgell. . . . Remember 
you are both king and pope . . . that which hath do'ne 
most hurte is the abundance of Grammar Schools and 
Inns of Court . . . they only teach boys to become clerks 
instead of farm-labourers and mechanicks. . . . keep a 
bounteous table, say 80,000 a year. . . . Your Royal 
Father always wanted money . . . Putt money in your 
purse and keep it, and avoid Parliaments. When you are 
rich, and call a Parliament, your Majesty is then Master 
of the fielde." 

The chief man for a little while after the Restoration 
was of course General Monk : he immediately offered the 
King a list of Privy Councillors, mostly Presbyterians. 
Charles chose Monk himself, Morice, and Anthony Ashley 

saunter during the game. James of York frequently played it, and had a fore- 
caddie to mark the ball down. James also played tennis, and one of the 
earliest portraits of him shows him as a small boy playing that game in 163-. 
(Strutt, ed. 1905.) 

MONK 157 

Cooper, but filled the other places with old cavaliers, like 
Hyde, Ormonde, and Nicholas. Monk was created Duke 
of Albemarle, and continued in favour till his death in 
1670, even though the King did not, perhaps, esteem him 
in his heart. Pepys considered the General " a dull heavy 
man," and continually sneered at him ; as a matter of fact, 
Monk, though slow, was a man of strong common-sense, 
and in his way, steady and honourable. His personal 
courage was great, and splendidly shown in the Second 
Dutch War, of 1665-67. He was apparently celebrated 
among the courtiers for his rather coarse and plebeian 
hospitality, and his extraordinary powers of drinking. 
Pepys was disgusted at the slovenly methods of table- 
service in his house, and looked down upon his wife, whom 
at various times he calls " a plain homely dowdy," " an 
ill-looking, ill-natured woman," " a slut and a drudge." 
She was evidently a woman of sound and strongly- 
expressed sense, not without coarseness due to her origin 
and breeding, being the daughter of John Clarges, a farrier 
in the Savoy and horseshoer to Colonel Monk ; she first 
married Thomas Radford, and lived at the sign of the 
" Three Spanish Gypsies " in the New Exchange ; selling 
wash-balls, powder, gloves, and the like, and teaching girls 
plain work : she became Monk's sempstress and laundress, 
then his mistress, and on the disappearance of her husband 
in 1652, his wife. On Monk's elevation to the peerage, she 
was promptly christened " The Monkey Duchess," and 
Pepys mentions with scorn the dedication of a book to her 
as a paragon of virtue and beauty. Of Monk's superior 
sobriety let the French Ambassador, M. le Comte de 
Comminges, speak : "Mai 15, 1663. II est arrive" depuis 
trois jours une affaire assez plaisante en cette cour. M. le 
Comte d'Oxford, un des plus qualifiez Seigneurs d'Angle- 
terre, Chevalier de la Jarretiere, et Mestre du Camp du 
Regiment de la Cavalrie du Roy, pria a diner Genl. Monck, 
le grand Chambellan du Royaume, et quelques autres 
conseillers d'Etat. A ce nombre se joignerent tous les 


jeunes gens de qualite*. La debauche s'eschauffa a tel 
point que chacun y fut offenseur et offense ; Ton se gourma, 
Ton s'arracha les cheveux, et enfin deux de la troupe se 
battirent a coups de Tepee. Mais heureusement cette 
escarmouche s6para la compagnie ; chacun prit son parti 
selon son inclination ; ceux qui s'en allerent avec la G 1 
demanderent a boire, on leur en donna, ils pousserent 
I'afifaire jusqu'au soir, cequi les obligea de demander & 
manger, estant eschauffe's du matin et de I'apres-dine'e, 
chacun re*solut de porter son compagnon par terre. Le G 1 *, 
qui a sans doute la tete plus forte, fit un coup de maitre, 
en leur pr^sentant a chacun un hanap, qui tenait beaucoup, 
les uns 1'avalerent, les autres ne purent, mais ge'ne'ralement, 
tous demeurerent jusqu'au lendemain sans avoir conversa- 
tion, quoiqu'en meme chambre. Le seul G 1 ' alia au 
Parlement comme a son ordinaire, et n'en perdit ni la 
jugement ni 1'esprit. Cela a fait rire la compagnie, et n'a 
passe" que pour un emportement." 

For the first few months of his reign, Charles displayed 
considerable application to business ; though numerous 
confidential notes, passed across the council-table to Lord 
Chancellor Clarendon, show frequent straining at the 
leash, and also cast amusing side-lights upon the methods 
of procedure at the time. King: " What do you think of 
my Lord Berklayes being deputy of Ireland, if we can 
find no better ? " Chancellor : " Do you thinke you shall 
be ridd of him by it, for that is all the good of it ? " K. : 
" The truth of it is the being ridd of him doth incline me 
something to it, but when you have thought round, you 
will hardly find a fitter person." . . . K. : " I have been 
talking with the Scots L ds - about the businesse of that 
kingdome and they finde it most necessary that a secretary 
be named, so as I must do to-morrow or next day." Ch. : 
" I know not what to say to it, but I am sure you have so 
many thinges to thinke of, that I wonder you can sleepe." 
. . . Ch. ; " I pray be pleased to give an Audyence to my 
Ld. Broghall, who will say many thges. to you of moment, 


and I thinke with duty enough ; if you will give him leave to 
attende you to morrow morning at 8 of the clocke, I will 
give him notice of it." K. : " You give appointments in a 
morning sooner than you take them yourselfe ; but if my 
Ld. Braughall will come at 9 he shall be wellcome." 
Against the King's remark may be set the facts of 
Clarendon's gout and Charles' early rising ; but still the 
continued tutorial manner of the Chancellor became more 
and more irksome to the King, and contributed not a 
little to the vexation and anger which culminated in 
Clarendon's fall. The King's gradually growing distaste 
for business and the council-table may be traced in the 
following notes : Ck. : " This debate is worth three dinners, 
I beseech you be not weary of it, but attend it with all 
patience, the benefitt that will follow, is greater than you 
yet see." . . . K. : " 9 a clock. I thinke it will be neces- 
sary to dispatch S r> J. Coventry back again as soone as we 
can, but I beleeve Secretary Morice will hardly be ready 
for us this afternoone, if there be any thing for me to do 
to day I will not stirr, else I would take some aire after 
this raine, lett me have an answer of this presently, do 
you remember that I am to say something to both houses 
on Monday? Send it me. For the Chancelour." . . . 
K. : " Will not you be heere to-morrow at councell about 
the businesse of Ireland ? It will be likewise necessary 
for you to meete me at the Generall's on friday before 
councell about the businesse of Pottugal." Ch. : " I shall 
attende you in both places, if I am able, the contrary 
whereof I do not suspecte ; you have a world of other 
businesse to, which must be settled at my L d - Treasurers." 
K. : " When can we meete there ? " Ch. : " I am afrayd 
not till Sunday : Will you putt us to deliver our opinions 
in this matter this night: it will take much tyme: 
my L d - Dorchester must be very longe, and my L d> 
Anglesy as longe, since I presume they will differ both 
from ther learninge they last published in this place." 
K. : " If those two learned persons could be sent to supper, 


we might despatch it now, but by my L d> of Dorchester's 
face I feare his speech will be long which will be better 
for a collation than a supper." 

As soon as possible, the army was paid and disbanded, 
the regicides put to death, and Argyll executed in Scot- 
land. It was due to the firmness and wisdom of Charles 
and Clarendon that only the regicides suffered : the King's 
natural clemency rebelled against even these executions, 
but he realized that the multitude in its reaction must be 
appeased by blood, just as the later fury of the Popish 
Plot had to be quenched in the blood of Stafford 
and Plunket. In July, 1661, King and Chancellor confer 
by scribbled notes at the council-table, on the subject of 
executions. " What is to be wished, should be done in 
the Bill that is now ordred to be brought in for the 
execution of those ill men who are condemned ? would it 
not be better that the Bill should sleep in the Houses, and 
not be brought to you ? Shall I speake of it at the 
boorde ? " K. : " 1 must confesse that I am weary of 
hanging except upon new offences." Ch. : " After this 
businesse is settled, shall I moove it here ? That wee may 
take care that it comes not to you ? " K. : " By all 
meanes, for you know that I cannot pardon them." The 
King again expresses his sentiments on such matters in a 
letter to the Earl of Middleton, governor in Scotland : 
"Whitehall, 22 March, i66o[i]. Middleton, I have given 
yow a full answer to yo r letter, yet one thing I must adde, 
and it shall be to yor selfe : I am sorie to heare from so 
many hands That a strange cours is taken there with many 
of those who were appointed to be cited to the Parliament ; 
Privat barganes I heare are driven, money receaved from 
too many who are represented to have been abominable 
complyers. I shall be glade that this be not so, for 
althogh I should have been apt enough to have pardnd 
such as had been offered as the fittest objects of mercie, 
and althogh I was willing to leave those things very 
much to the Parliament, yet I did ever understand that 


the sole power of pardoning resides in me, and that fines 
and forfaultures are wholly at my disposal: You shall 
therfor privately informe yo r self if any such strange way 
be taken and Let it be stopt, For I am cleirly of opinion 
That pardoning and punishing is to be caryed above 
boord, and that no privat bargains are to be driven to 
make sale of my grace and mercie. Let me I pray yow 
have ane account of this." l A curious letter is extant 
showing how Charles acted when he saw a very real danger 
involved in the matter : " Hamton Courte, Saturday [7 June, 
1662] two in the afternoon. The relation that has been made 
to me of Sir H. Vane's carriage yesterday in the hall, is the 
occasion of this letter, which, if I am rightly informed, was 
so insolent, as to justyfy all he had done ; acknowledgeing 
no supreame power in England, but a parliament ; and many 
things to that purpose. You have had a true accounte of 
all, and if he has given new occasion to be hanged, cer- 
taynly he is too dangerous a man to lett live, if we can 
honestly put him out of the way. Thinke of this, and give 
me some accounte of it to-morrow, till when I have no 
more to say to you. C." 

The Cavaliers said that the Act of Indemnity in 1660 
meant Indemnity for the King's enemies and Oblivion 
for his friends ; but the Presbyterians who recalled Charles, 
must be satisfied and allowed to retain lands and property 
bought from distressed Cavaliers ; all Cavaliers whose 
lands and property had been confiscated, regained what 
they had lost ; Charles never forgot personal services and 
rarely remembered personal injuries ; and lastly, the 
number of claimants for his bounty was so great that he 
could not have satisfied them all, had he been Crcesus, and 
as it was, Parliament were only allowing him about half a 
million for all expenses, " a sum insufficient, with the 
strictest economy, for the ordinary expenses of govern- 
ment." Still Charles was too apt to promise the same office 

1 Lauderdale Papers, ed. Airy, Camden Soc., i. 92-3. Cf. Burnet, i. 216. 
Middleton was head of the "Drunken Administration " in Scotland. 


to two different people, or say one thing to one man/ and 
the opposite to another, merely in order to be pleasant. 1 
He could refuse suits when there appeared to be any 
design of taking undue advantage, or the like, connected 
with them ; though it may be readily admitted that he 
disliked refusal even then, and an impudent importunity 
would frequently bore him to the point of concession. A 
boon-companion once asked him for an important favoirr, 
emboldened by the King's hilarity, and was startled by 
the reply, " Sir, you must ask that of your King." To 
Lord Keeper Guildford, Charles made a shrewd reply 
about suitors : " It is very strange that every one of my 
friends should keep a tame knave." 

The Convention Parliament of April-December, 1660, 
"settled everything except religion," which therefore re- 
mained for the Cavalier Parliament of May, i66i-January, 
1679. They destroyed Puritanism as a definite sect, and 
abolished the standing army. A standing army was one 
of the features in the King's private scheme of absolutism, 
and a feature eventually realized ; he increased his Life- 
Guards and Household Troops (at every possible oppor- 
tunity and excuse. The rising of the Fifth-Monarchy 
Men in January, 1661, the acquisition of Tangier and the 
consequent necessity of a garrison, in 1662, and the 
Farnely Wood Rising in Yorkshire, 1663-64, provided 
such excuses. Charles writes to Madame on 10 December, 
1663 : " I am now dispatching the judges into Yorkshire, 
to try those rogues that had the late plott, and I beleeve a 
good many of them will be hanged, and, to prevent all 
further mischief of that kinde, I am in deliberation of 
raysing two regiments of horse more of five hunderd men 

1 Council-Note of 1660. Ch. : "Is not my L dl Viscount Hereford L d< 
LL'- for Herefordshire ? " K. : " No, for I find by most of the Gentlemen of 
that county, that he is not at all beloved and besides I thinke the man herb 
John." Ch. : " Why did you once resolve it ? which he knowes, he is honest 
and all men say worth the cherishing. My L d> of Newcastle complaynes much 
that you neither grante nor deny, why do you not tell him what you resolve to 
do, and the reason ? " 


a peece, the one to lye in the North, and the other in the 
West, which will, I doute not, for the future, prevent all 
plotting." In 1683 the King " augmented his guards with 
a new set of dragoons, who carried also granados, and 
were habited after the Polish manner, with long picked 
caps, very fierce and fantastical." The regiments in 1669 
were dressed as follows : " The first or King's own Regi- 
ment of Infantry have a white flag, with a red cross in the 
middle ; all in red coats, turned up with light blue, except 
the pikemen, who have a silver coat, turned up with light 
blue. The second regiment, or that of the L d- General 
Monk, have a green standard with six white balls and a 
red cross; red jackets with green facings, pikemen in 
green, faced with red. The third regiment are the Earl of 
Oxford's Cavalry. The first company of bodyguards, the 
King's Own, have red jackets faced with blue, gold-laced, 
and white feathers in their hats. The second, the Duke 
of York's, have red jackets and blue facings, without gold 
lace, and white feathers in their hats. The third, the 
General's, dress like the second, but have a crimson ribbon 
in their hats, instead of a feather." 

The Crown was made financially dependent on Parlia- 
ment, and as they were not always amenable, Charles 
resorted to many devices for obtaining money, especially 
the sale of his policy to Parliament or Louis XIV. The 
Church passed into Parliament's hands, and Anglicanism 
again reigned supreme. Every attempt on the part of the 
King to gain toleration for Catholics or Dissenters proved 
vain, and soon, though genuinely a friend to toleration, 
both by nature and because he saw that Catholicism 
favoured his absolutist schemes, he abandoned any attempts 
to secure it, as too dangerous. Only in individual cases of 
services to his own person, did he endeavour to secure 
privileges and safety to Catholics. His clear-headedness 
on this point contrasts with James' blindness ; for side by 
side with Charles' determination to be absolute monarch, 
ran that neither to share the fate of his father nor bring 


about for himself another exile. Walking one day with 
Sir Richard Bulstrode in the Park, the King said : " that 
during his Exile abroad, he had seen many Countries, of 
which none pleased him so much as that of the Flemings, 
who were the most honest and true-hearted Race of People 
that he had met with ; " and then added, " But I am 
weary of traveling, I am resolved to go abroad no more : 
But when I am dead and gone, I know not what my 
Brother will do : I am much afraid, that when he comes to 
the Crown, he will be obliged to travel again : And yet I 
will take Care to leave my Kingdoms to him in Peace, 
wishing he may long keep them so. But this hath all of 
my Fears, little of my Hopes, and less of my Reason ; 
and I am much afraid, that when my Brother comes to 
the Crown, he will be obliged to leave his native Soil." 
As for the King's religion, it was of course outwardly 
Anglican, and avowedly tolerant ; nor is it probable that 
he actually joined the Church of Rome even in secret, till 
his death. He attended service in the Royal Chapel with 
some regularity, and usually chose his preachers with care 
and regard to their piety and eloquence, though he scrupled 
not to fall asleep if he were bored by their sermons. He 
objected to sermons being read, and asked Dr. Stilling- 
fleet, "the beauty of holiness," why he always read his 
sermons before him, and preached extempore elsewhere? 
The Bishop answered that it was because the awe of so 
noble an audience, but chiefly he seeing before him so 
great and wise a prince, made him afraid to trust himself. 
"But pray, will your Majesty give me leave to ask a 
question too ? Why do you read your speeches in Parlia- 
ment, when you can have none of the same reasons?" 
" Why, truly, Dr., your question is a very pertinent one, 
and so will be my answer. I have asked them so often, 
and for so much money, that I am ashamed to look them 
in the face." Of Barrow, the King said that " he was an 
unfair preacher," because of the length and excellence of 
his sermons. Of Dr. Frampton he said : " Tell Dr. 

SECTS 165 

Frampton that I am not angry for to be told of my faults, 
but I would have it done in a gentleman-like manner." 
The Grand Duke of Tuscany is kind enough to say that 
English ladies used to write abridgments of the sermons, 
but as a rule the contemporary accounts of their behaviour 
are not so edifying. The King had a private oratory 
when he went not in public to the chapel, where he saw 
the maids of honour and other young persons laugh to 
hear the Chaplain read at evening service some chapters 
of St. Paul's epistles relating to marriage and constancy. 
"The Holy Scriptures he had read and reasoned most 
well on them, but always lamented that common and 
ignorant persons were allowed to read them, and that this 
liberty was the rise of all our sects, each interpreting 
according to their vile notions, and to accomplish their 
horrid wickednesses. For murther they would cite Samuel 
for hewing to pieces Agag, not allowing it was by God's 
command, and so throw out the Scripture." Here are 
traces of Newcastle's early letter, of Catholic influence, of 
hatred to Scotch Presbyterianism, which Charles told 
Lauderdale to " let go, for it is not a religion for gentle- 
men ; " while he wrote to Clarendon : " For my part, 
rebell for rebell, I had rather trust a papist rather than a 
presbiterian one." 

The rising of the Fifth-Monarchy fanatics gave an 
excuse for the persecution of Dissenters, including the 
Quakers (" Kakers " or Trembleurs, as de Comminges calls 
them), and Pepys records seeing them dragged unresist- 
ingly to prison. Of the Quakers, William Penn was 
perhaps the most notable ; and it is said that while talking 
to the King one day, Charles pulled off his own hat, and 
on Penn saying " Friend Charles, put on thy hat," replied, 
" Nay, 'tis the custom of this place that only one person 
should be covered at a time," a very subtle rebuke for 
Penn's Quaker and uncourtly manners in keeping his hat 
on. Pepys tells us that one morning he stood by " the King 
argueing with a pretty Quaker woman, that delivered to 


him a desire of hers in writing, she modestly saying 
nothing till he begun seriously to discourse with her, 
arguing the truth of his spirit against hers ; she replying 
still with these words ' O King ! ' and thou'd him all 
along." The King on another occasion remarked that 
Lord Pembroke had heard the Quaker at the tennis-court 
swearing to himself when he lost. Burnet's account of the 
King's religion is extremely unfavourable, this being 
the point on which he naturally felt most strongly. " At 
prayers and at sacrament he, as it were, took care to 
satisfy people that he was in no sort concerned in that 
about which he was employed : he said once to me he was 
no atheist, but he could not think God would damn a man 
for taking a little pleasure out of the way ; he had formed 
an odd idea of the goodness of God in his mind ; he thought 
falsehood and cruelty, to be wicked and design mischief, 
were the only things God hated, and said to me often, 
that he was sure he was not guilty of them ; he thought 
an implicitness in religion is necessary for the safety of 
government, and he looked upon all inquisitiveness into 
those things as mischievous to the state." 

Charles once rebuked Rochester on the subject of 
atheism ; other sayings of his on religious matters vary 
from the ribaldry of free conversation to remarks of some 
depth and feeling. He never said anything recorded, as 
bad as the celebrated remark of Buckingham, when asked 
on his death-bed if a priest should be fetched : " No ! those 
rascals eat God ! But if you can find someone who eats 
the devil, I should be glad to see him." Another remark 
of the King's on a Church matter is worth recording, con- 
cerning Woolley, afterwards Bishop of Clonfert : " he is a 
very honest man, but a very great blockhead, to whom I 
gave a living in Suffolk that was full of Nonconformists ; 
he went about among them from house to house, yet I 
cannot imagine what he could say to them, for he is a 
very silly fellow ; but I believe his nonsense suited their 
nonsense ; for he has brought them all to Church." 


The Cavalier Parliament destroyed the droit adminis- 
tratif and passed the four great penal laws against Dis- 
senters, and by the severity with which they enforced those 
statutes, crushed Puritanism. Yet the quarrels between 
Church and Dissent helped the growing tendency towards 
free-thought, indifference, and rationalism. Indifference 
and vice became a fashion, as Butler points out : 

" For 'tis not what they do that's now the sin, 
But what they lewdly affect and glory in, 
As if preposterously they would profess 
A forc'd hypocrisy of wickedness ; 
And affectation that makes good things bad, 
Must make affected shame accurs'd and mad." 

A more accurate diagnosis of the chief weakness of the 
Court could hardly be given ; Butler has set his finger on 
the plague spot, the legitimating of affectation. The story 
told of Shaftesbury (also of Disraeli) is indicative of the 
general tone in religious matters : a lady hearing him say 
that all wise men were of one religion, asked him, " which 
was that ? " " Madam, wise men never tell" 

One feature of the new order of things was the growth 
of the scientific spirit, signalized by the foundation of the 
Royal Society in 1663. The King, Dryden, Evelyn, and 
Pepys were among its members. Cosmo III and M. de 
Sorbiere have described a meeting of the august body in 
1664-69: "The President sits in an elbow chair in the 
middle of the table of the assembly, with his back to the 
chimney, and has a large silver mace, with the royal arms, 
lying before him, with which it is customary, for the 
mace-bearer, or porter of the academy, to walk before him. 
He has a little wooden mace in his hand, with which he 
strikes the table when he would command silence. The 
secretary sits at the head of the table, the others taking 
seats indifferently on backed wooden seats in two rows ; 
and if any one enter unexpectedly, after the meeting has 
begun, every one remains seated, nor is his salutation 


returned, except by the president alone, who acknowledges 
it by an inclination of the head, that he may not interrupt 
the person who is speaking on the subject or experiment 
proposed by the secretary. They observe the custom of 
speaking to the President uncovered, waiting from him 
for permission to be covered." Butler ridiculed the Royal 
Society in particular and scientific inquiry generally, 
in the " Elephant in the Moon " ; perhaps because of the 
rationalistic and secularizing tendency of science, but 
more probably because of the numberless quackeries and 
chimeras which deluded the people who professed interest 
in science. The pursuit of wonders, and not of truth, he 
satirized particularly ; but his general attitude resembles 
that of Swift in the " Voyage to Laputa," and lacks sym- 
pathy with the infantile and inchoate stages of the new 
movement. In spite of Butler and Swift, science was 
justified of her children Newton, Locke, Boyle, and others. 
Nevertheless, Butler is amusing enough to deserve quota- 
tion on the subject : 

" These were their learned speculations, 
And all their constant occupations, 
To measure wind, and weigh the air, 
And turn a circle to a square ; 
To make a powder of the sun, 
By which all doors should b' undone ; 
To find the North- West Passage out, 
Although the farthest way about ; 
If chymist from a rose's ashes 
Can raise the rose itself in glasses ? 
Whether the line of incidence 
Rise from the object, or the sense ? 
To shew th' elixir in a bath 
Of hope, credulity, and faith ; 
To explicate, by subtle hints, 
The grain of diamonds and flints, 
And in the braying of an ass 
Find out the treble and the bass ; 
If mares neigh alto, and a cow 
A double diapason low." 


The gradual growth of the scientific spirit in the seventeenth 
century can, of course, be traced, and notable landmarks 
are Burton's "Anatomy of Melancholy" in 1621, a 
storehouse and summary of the older learning, and the 
" Pseudodoxia Epidemica " or " Vulgar Errors " of Sir 
Thomas Browne in 1650, of which the intention rather 
than the execution is significant. 

In spite of Sir Thomas's dictum in his best-known work, 
the"Religio Medici" (1642) : "I have ever believed, and 
do now know, that there are witches," the belief in such 
beings, and consequently the persecution of women reputed 
to be such, declined in this reign. These remarks must, of 
course, be taken to apply only to the upper and more 
enlightened classes ; and even among them, as often in the 
decadence of old beliefs, certain superstitions flourished 
more than ever ; for instance, that of astrology. Horo- 
scopes and divination of all kinds were greatly sought by 
all classes, especially the great ladies, from astrologers and 
wizards. Rochester acted for some time as a " wise man " ; 
Buckingham and Shaftesbury consulted them ; Butler 
ridiculed them in his portrait of Sidrophel in " Hudibras " ; 
the horoscopes of many notabilities of the time are still 
extant, including that of Nell Gwyn. \ The King despised 
and ridiculed astrology, and had many a joke at the expense 
of a luckless Abb6 Pregnani, sent over as secret agent 
by Louis XIV, under the guise of astrologer-scientist. 
" L'Abbe Pregnany is heere, and wonders very much at the 
pleasure everybody takes at the races, he was so weary with 
riding from Audley End hither, to see the foot-match, as he 
is scarse recovered yett." ..." L'Abb6 Pregnany was there 
most part of the time, and I believe will give you some 
account of it, but not that he lost his money upon con- 
fidence that the Starrs could tell which horse would winn, 
for he had the ill luck to foretell three times wrong 
together, and James [Duke of Monmouth] believed him so 
much, as he lost his money upon the same score." ..." I 
finde the poore Abbe" very much troubled, for feare that 


the railleryes about foretelling the horse matches may 
have done him some prejudice with you, which I hope it 
has not done, for he was only trying new trickes, which he 
had read of in bookes, and gave as little creditt to them as 
we did. ..." The King was much interested in every- 
thing " scientific," especially in chemistry, natural history, 
and mechanics. He sent for a professor from France and 
built him a laboratory in St. James' Park ; while he had 
a private " elaboratory " himself under his closet at White- 
hall, filled with the "chymicai glasses " and other apparatus 
which puzzled Pepys. Here the King spent many hours 
with Sir Robert Moray, and discussed not only science, 
but also privy matters of state, especially affairs of Scot- 
land, Lauderdale being a common friend. As early as 
October, 1660, "His Majesty was lately, in an evening, at 
Gresham College, where he was entertained with the admir- 
able long Tube, with which he viewed the heavens, to his 
very great satisfaction ; insomuch that he commended Sir 
P. Neale to cause the like to be made (the former cost 
100) for the use of Whitehall . . . His Majesty hath also 
threatened to bestow a visit upon Mr. Boyle." The diary 
of Evelyn is full of references to conversations with the 
King on all possible subjects, including bees, Saturn, 
glass granades, clocks, and watches, Evelyn's various 
projects, and the like. He wrote a letter to Madame about 
the Comet of 1674 (December) ; l he kept a menagerie 
and aviary in St. James' Park, and paid much attention 
to horticulture, while he both watched and performed 
dissections and operations on the human body. The 

1 "Whitehall, 26 December, 1664. We have scene here the Comett, but 
the wether has been so cloudy, as I never saw it but once. It was very low, 
and had a taile that stood upwards, it is now above 12 days since I saw it, 
but upon Christmas eve and the night before, there was another scene very 
much higher than the former. I saw it both nights, and it lookes much lesser 
than the first, but none of the Astronimers can tell whether it be a new one or 
the old one grown less and got up higher, but all conclude it to be no ordinary 
starr. Pray enquire of the skillfull men, and lett me know whether it has been 
seen at Paris. This new one was scene here, the 23 and 24 of this month, old 
style, and had a little taile which stood north-east. . . . C. R." 


Observatory at Greenwich and the Mathematical School at 
Christ's Hospital remain to testify to his interest in science. 
Charles yearly took part in a ceremony closely related 
either to science or superstition, the Touching for the 
King's Evil. 1 For the Touching ceremony tickets had to 
be obtained by those who desired to be healed, at the 
surgeon's house, in order to admit them to the ceremony. 
If at Whitehall, the King sat under his state in the 
Banqueting House ; if at Newmarket or elsewhere, the 
ceremony took place in any large room, and a carpet, 
with a chair thereon, was set for the King. At a given 
signal, the two assistant chaplains, in surplices, say some 
prayers, and then the surgeons bring up the sick persons, 
one by one, and they kneeling, his Majesty strokes their 
faces or cheeks with both hands at once, also touching 
them in the parts affected. As each is touched, he retires 
orderly to his original place. At the moment of touching, 
a chaplain says, " He put his hands upon them, and healed 
them." When they have all been touched, the minister, 
kneeling with all by-standers, the King only remaining 
seated, repeats the prayers, after which, all rising, the sick 
come again in the same order as before, and the other 
chaplain kneeling, having gold angels, strung on white 
or blue ribbon on his arm, delivers them one by one to 
his Majesty, who puts them about the necks of the touched 
as they pass, whilst the first chaplain repeats, " That is the 
true Light who came into the world." Then follows an 
Epistle (as at first a Gospel), with the Liturgy prayers for 
the sick, with some alterations ; lastly, the blessing ; and 
then the Lord Chamberlain and the Comptroller of the 
Household bring a basin, ewer, and towel, for his Majesty 
to wash. On one occasion the people were kept waiting 
some hours in the rain, though finally the King did per- 
form the ceremony ; and to avoid similar inconveniences, 
an advertisement was inserted in the Public Intelligencer 
of May, 1664: "Whitehall, 14 May, 1664. His Sacred 

1 He was also the first English sovereign to coin Maundy money. 


Majesty having declared it to be his Royal Will and pur- 
pose to continue the healing of his people for the Evil 
during the month of May, and then to give over till 
Michaelmas next, I am commanded to give notice thereof, 
that the people may not come up to Town in the Interim 
and lose their labour." 

The King discovered the fraud of Mompesson and the 
invisible drummer in his house, and had all kinds of 
experiments tried before him, with a view to determining 
their genuineness. 1 By the people at large the almanacs 
of Lilly, Montelion, Nostradamus, and Mother Shipton 
were eagerly bought, and ghost stories believed, much as 
now. Charms and folk-magic entered into medicine and 
quacks swarmed in London, especially in Moorfields, 
under the signs of Balls of different colours, or else as 
itinerant mountebanks. Various ancient remedies, such 
as hare's-foot for colic, pigeons tied to the feet in extremis, 
to sit in scalding milk and drink candy posset for a cold, 
were still devoutly believed in. 

Through the influence of Louis XIV, the King of 
England sought him a wife in Portugal, 2 and there are 
early references to wedding-negotiations in the Council- 
notes. " I send you heere my Letter that is for the Queen 
of Portugal, 'tis the worst Spanish that ever was written, 
and if it were possible, it ought to have been mended, but 
now that cannot be, looke it over and see if I have written 
it right, and send it me back with the super- and subscrip- 
tion ! For the Chancelour." ..." friday night. My 

1 Chas. Hatton to Chr. H., 25 July, 1676. "Here is a Welshman who 
pretends to cure any wound whatsoever in the boweles or any part, except the 
heart, in a few houres. . . . Severale pigges, kidds, and chickens have, in 
the King's presence, been run into the bowells and through the head w'h 
knives and hot irons, and cured in a short time by this man's medicines." In 
March, 1666, Valentine Greatrakes, Grattrix, or Greatorex, an Irishman, the 
"stroker" [= masseur?] appeared at Court, and won the support of the 
Bishop of Hereford, among others, by doing things " beyond the power of 
nature." (Sir Chas. Lyttleton to Chr. Hatton.) 

* When certain German Princesses were suggested, Charles said, " Od's 
fish, they are all foggy, and I cannot like any one of them for a wife." 


Bro. tells me that there are two ships now at Portsmouth, 
expecting a winde for the Straights, who may land any 
messenger at Lisbon, they shall have order to stay, until 
farther order, therefore lett the dispatch be hastened all 
you can, and I thinke a letter from me to my wife will be 
necessary ; you may send for H. Bennett to prepare it and 
give him instructions for the contents of it. For the 
Chancelour." . . . K. : "I thinke we have not yett 
thought of the maner of my mariage, it will be necessary 
we meete about it." C. : " it is so longe since it was 
thought of, that it may be forgotten, but you did thinke of 
every part of it, before the Ambassador went ; you must 
have a Bishopp with you, she must marry you before you 
goe to bedd, and she is prepared to submitt to it, 1 as a 
ciuill obligacon, for the legitimacon of h[er] children." 
K. : " This which you say, was quite all out of my minde ; 
I hope she hath consulted with the Jesuites, who are best 
able to vote a eclesiasticall obligation into a ciuill one." 
C. : " It was the grounds of the pressinge you so presently 
to style her your wife, and that shee be reputed as marryed 
before shee come thence, after shee comes hither, shee will 
do that is necessary for herself and children ; you cannot 
be marryed by a Roman Priest, therefore shee must by a 
Bishopp of yours." 

It was decided that the King should meet his bride at 
Portsmouth, and he writes on this point to Clarendon : " I 
shall have one conveniency in it too, that if I should fall 
asleepe to soone when I come to Portsmouth, I may lay 
the faulte vpon my Longe iourney." Long before the 
Queen left Portugal, Thos. Maynard wrote to Sir Edward 
Nicholas in her praise : " Lisbon, 19-29 July, 1661. Wee 
shall be extreame happy as a Queene. Shee is as sweete 
a disposition Princes as everr was borne, and a lady of 

1 They were married according to the Catholic rites by Lord Aubigny, 
and according to the Anglican by the Archbishop of Canterbury ; but it is 
said that the Queen would not bear the sight of him, or say the words, so much 
was she bigoted. (I doubt this.) 


excellent partes, and bred hugely retired. She hath hardly 
been ten tymes out of the Palace in her life. In five 
yeares time shee was not out of doores, untill she harde of 
his Ma ties intentions to make her a Queen of England, 
since which shee hath been to visit two saintes in the city ; 
and very shortly shee intends to pay her devotion to some 
saintes in the country." Poor child, what a training, in 
view of the Court and husband to whom she went ! As 
soon as the Queen landed in England, May, 1662, and 
came to her lodgings, she received Lady Suffolk and the 
other ladies-in-waiting very kindly, and appointed them 
15 May morning to come and dress her in the way they 
thought would be most pleasing to the King; "and I 
doubt not, when they have done their partes, she will 
appear to much more advantage, and very well to the 
King's contentment. She is a Prince of extraordinary 
goodness of disposition ; very discreet and pious, and the 
most hopeful that ever was of makinge the Kinge and all 
of us happy." 

The King arrived in Portsmouth about three in the 
afternoon on 20 May, and immediately visited his Queen 
in her bed-chamber, where she lay with a feverish sore 
throat. " Their meeting was with due expressions of 
affection, the Queen declaring her perfect resignation to 
the King's pleasure. ... I do beleeve this first inter- 
view hath bene with much contentment on both sides." l 
Nevertheless, it was probably with reference to this first 
interview that Charles said to Colonel Legge that he 
thought they had sent him a bat instead of a woman ; 
"but it was too late to find fault, and he must make 
the best he could of a bad matter." It is doubtful to 
what exact date Reresby refers when he says : "It was 
easy to see that the King was not excessively charmed 
with his new bride." Her Portuguese attendants had 
perhaps muffled her up in an extraordinary way as she 
lay in bed. After the consummation of the marriage, the 

1 Lister, Life of Clarendon. 


King wrote a very frank letter to Clarendon, of which 
only part can be quoted : "21 May ... I can only now 
give you an account of what I have scene abed, which in 
shorte is, her face is not so exact as to be called a beauty, 
though her eyes are excellent good, and not anything 
in her face that in the least degree can shoque one; on 
the contrary, she hath as much agreeableness in her 
looks altogether as ever I saw, and if I have any skill in 
visiognimy, which I think I have, she must be as good a 
woman as ever was borne. Her conversation, as much 
as I can perceive, is very good, for she has witt enough, 
and a most agreeable voyse. You would wonder to 
see how well we are acquainted already. In a worde, I 
thinke myself very happy ; for I am confident our two 
humours will agree very well together." Again, on the 
25th: "Portsmouth. My brother will tell you of all that 
passes heire, which I hope will be to your satisfaction. I 
am sure 'tis so much to mine, that I cannot easily tell you 
how happy I think myselfe, and I must be the worst man 
living (which I hope I am not) if I be not a good husband. 
I am confident never two humours were better fitted 
together than ours are. We cannot stirr from hence till 
Tuesday, by reason that there is not cartes to be had 
to-morrow, to transporte all our guarde infantas, without 
whome there is no stirring, so as you are not to expect 
mee till Thursday night at Hamton Courte." There is no 
doubt that the Queen fell in love with her husband at first 
sight, and that she continued to be in love with him till 
his death. From the extremely conflicting accounts of 
her person and her temper, it is a probable solution of the 
mystery hanging over the whole affair, that her beauty 
depended largely on expression, and her expression 
depended on the degree of nervousness which she felt ; 
she was an extremely shy and high-strung woman, and 
made her impression according to these circumstances. 
It is possible that the Queen may have annoyed or bored 
Charles on some occasion during the week after his 


marriage, by not looking her best at a critical moment, 
or by presenting a particular contrast owing to some 
such cause, to Lady Castlemaine, when he saw that lady 
again. This is not an attempt to defend the King's 
subsequent conduct ; but an attempt to supply a reason 
for a course of action which appears, in the light of his 
own letters, apart from other evidence, extremely strange. 
On 30 May, the Queen arrived at Hampton Court with her 
train " in monstrous fardingales or guard-infantas, their 
complexion olivader or sufficiently unagreeable. Her 
Ma ty- in the same habit, her foretop very long and turned 
aside very strangely. Though low of stature, prettily 
shaped ; languishing and excellent eyes, her teeth wronging 
her mouth by sticking a little too far out ; for the rest 
lovely enough." On 31 May, Pepys still hears that the 
King " is pleased enough with her " ; and on some day in 
May, Charles wrote from Whitehall to his sister: l "My lord 
of St. Alban's will give you soe full a description of my wife 
as I shall not goe about to doe it only I must tell you I 
think myself very happy. I was married the day before 
yesterday, but the fortune that follows my family is fallen 
upon me, car Monseigneur le Cardinal m'a fermt la porte 
au nez? But I flatter myself I was not so furious as 
Monsieur was, and shall let this passe. I intend, on 
Monday next to go to Hamton Court, where I shall stay 
till the Queene [ = Henrietta Maria] comes. My deerest 
sister, continue your kindness to me, and beleeve me to be 
intirely yours, C. R." Charles had said that " if he ever 
could be guilty of keeping a mistress after he was married, 
she should never come where his wife was." Yet by June 
he thrust Lady Castlemaine upon his wife as a lady of 
the bed-chamber. The Queen pricked her out of the 
list presented to her by the King, so that she had either 

1 The Catholic marriage was on 24 May, so this letter must have been 
26 May. 

2 Aubigny was not a Cardinal, so Charles must be quoting from an incident 
at his sister's wedding. 




seen or heard of the lady already ; according to Pepys* 
informant, the King was angry, and the Queen discontented 
a whole day and night upon it, asking him to do her that 
favour, or send her back -whence shf, came : but a letter of 
the King's to Clarendon, early in June, does not help one 
to believe that Charles ever wavered in his resolution, 
though the very vehemence of the letter may suggest that 
he was somewhat ashamed of himself, and was trying to 
drown his scruples : for it is inconceivable that a man 
whom even Burnet calls "certainly the best-bred man 
in the world " was not aware of the scurvy part he was 
playing, even if we take the very narrowest interpretation 
of the word base-bred. It may be, however, that the 
King held a low opinion of women in general, that he 
had tired of that new toy, a wife, and that proximity to 
Barbara Palmer had only increased his passion for that 
splendid piece of Eve's flesh. The only glimmer of good 
feeling, in fact, lies in the very vehemence of the letter, 
showing an unusual strain, for Charles was a man of 
extraordinary self-control. When he speaks of his 
"honour," it is possible that in the blindness of the 
moment, he is setting up a promise made in a moment 
of passion to the Castlemaine, above his duty to his wife 
and his better feelings. 

This is the King's letter : " I forgott, when you weare 
heere last, to desire you to give Broderick good counsell, 
not to meddle any more with what concerns my Lady 
Castlemaine, and to lett him have a care how he is the 
authorre of any scandalous reports ; for if I find him guilty 
of any such thing, I will make him repent it to the last 
moments of his life. And now I am entered on this matter, 
I think it very necessary to give you a little good councell 
in it, and least you may think that, by making a further 
stirr in the businesse, you may deverte mee from my 
resolution, which all the world shall never do ; and I wish 
I may be unhappy in this world and the world to come, if 
I faile in the least degree what I have resolved ; which is, 



of making my Lady Castlemaine of my wives bedchamber ; 
and whosoever I find use any endeavour to hinder this 
resolution of myne (except it be only to myselfe) I will be 
his enemy to the last moment of my life. You know how 
true a friende I have been to you. If you will oblige me 
eternally, make this businesse as easy as you can, of what 
opinion soever you are of ; for I am resolv'd to go through 
with this matter, lett what will come of it ; which againe I 
solemnly sweare before Almighty God. Therefore, if you 
desire to have the continuance of my friendship, meddle 
no more with this businesse except it be to beare downe all 
false and scandalous reports, and to facilitate what I am 
sure my honour is so much concerned in ; and whosoever 
I finde to be my Lady Castlemaine's enemy in this matter, 
I do promise, upon my word, to be his enemy as long as I 
live. You may shew this letter to my L d - L nt> , if you have 
both a minde to oblige me, carry yourselves like frinds 
to me in this matter. Charles R." In July, 1 Clarendon 
writes to Ormonde, "the Kinge is perf y- recovered of his 
indispositions, in which you left him. I wish he were as 
free from all others. I have had since I saw you, three or 
four full long conferences, with much better temper than 
before. I have likewise twice spoken at large with the 
Queen. The Lady hath beene at Courte, and kissed her 
hande, and returned that night. I cannot tell you, ther 
was no discomposure. I am not out of hope, and that is 
all I can yett say." 2 On 23 August, the Queen came to 
London, and there went to meet her " innumerable boates 
and vessels, dress'd and adorn'd with all imaginary pomp, 
with thrones, arches, pageants, and other representations, 

1 17 July j now, while the Bedchamber Warrant is dated I June, it is on 
26 July that Pepys mentions the quarrel of King and Queen ; though, of course, 
he may be speaking of some time past. In any case, it would seem that Lady 
Castlemaine did not become of the bedchamber for some little time. 

z This reconciliation task must have been most distasteful to Clarendon ; 
for he would not pass the patents for the Earldom of Palmer ; he would not 
allow his wife to visit "the lady," and never courted her, or visited her 


stately barges of the Lord Mayor and companies, with 
various inventions, musiq and peales of ordnance both 
from vessells and the shore. His Majesty and the Queene 
came in an antiq shap'd open vessell, cover'd with a state 
or canopie of cloth of gold, made in form of a cupola, 
supported with high Corinthian pillars, wreath'd with 
flowers, festoons, and garlands." Two pageants preceded 
them, one of a King and Queen with her maids of honour 
at her feet. On 7 September " the King and Queen were 
very merry ; and he would have made the Queen-Mother 
believe that his Queen was with child, and said that she 
said so. And the young Queen answered ' You lye ' ; 
which was the first English word that I ever heard her 
say ; which made the King good sport ; and he would 
have taught her to say in English ' Confess and be 
hanged.' " On 9 September, Clarendon writes again to 
Ormonde : " All things are bad with reference to the Lady ; 
but I think not so bad as you heere. Every body takes 
her to be of the bedchamber ; for she is always there, and 
goes abrode in the coach. But the Queen tells me, that 
the King promised her, that she should never live in 
court ; yet lodgings, I hear, she hath. I heare of no back 
staires. The worst is, the King is as discomposed 
as ever ; and looks as little after his business ; which 
breaks my heart, and makes me and other of your friends 
weary of our lives. He seeks for his satisfaction and 
delight in other company, which do not love him so well 
as you and I do. I hope it will not last always." On 
24 October, " the King do shew no countenance to any 
that belong to the Queen ; nor, above all, to such English 
as she brought over with her, or hath here since, for fear 
they should tell her how he carries himself to Mrs. 
Palmer . . . yet the Queen do know how the King orders 
things, and how he carries himself to my Lady Castlemaine 
and others, as well as any body, but though she hath spirit 
enough, yet seeing that she had no good by taking notice 
of it, she forbears it in policy." On 25 October, Clarendon 


writes to Ormond for the third time in the same hopeless 
strain :" Worcester House, 1662: . . . That w ch breakes 
my hearte is, that the same affections continew still, the 
same lazynesse and unconcernednesse in businesse, and a 
proportionable abatement of reputation." 

The Queen began now to fall in with the more in- 
nocent diversions of the Court, and to dress more in the 
free-and-easy style of the ladies there to raise the petti- 
coat and lower the stays, as Addison puts it in the 
Guardian. Katherine luckily had a sense of humour, 
which must have stood her in good stead, and possibly 
attracted the King at first, and at intervals afterwards ; 
for, says the King, " we had a designe to have had a mas- 
querade here, and had made no ill design in the generate for 
it, but we were not able to go through with it, not haveing 
one man heere that could make a tolerable entry. I 
have been perswading the Queen [-mother] to follow 
Queen-mother of France's example, and goe in masque- 
rade before the carnavall be done, I beleeve it worth 
seeing my Lord St. Alban's in such an occasion. My 
wife hath given a good introduction to such a businesse, 
for the other day she made my Lord Aubigny and two 
other of her chaplains dance country dances in her bed- 
chamber. I am just now called for to goe to the Play, 
so as I can say no more at present, but that I am intirely 
yours, C. R." Charles attended to his wife's wishes and 
whims, and the fact that we find the mistresses' apart- 
ments far more magnificently furnished than the Queen's 
is rather due to the Queen's preference for simplicity, and 
to the fact that she did not bother the King with requests, 
like the other ladies ; for the King is " very kind to those 
he loves, but never thinks of doing anything for them, so 
that if they can find things for themselves he will easily 
enough grant them, but he never sets himself to find out 
anything for them." The Queen had little in her room 
but " some pretty pious pictures, and books of devotion, 
and her holy water at her head as she sleeps, with her 


clock by her bedside, wherein a lamp burns that tells her 
the time of the night at any time." For these and other 
pious pictures Charles had written to Madame : " I send 
you heere, the title of a little booke of devotion in Spanish 
which my wife desires to have, by the directions you will 
see where 'tis to be had, and pray send two of them by 
the first convenience. My dearest sister, I am intirely 
yours, C. R. . . . " " Pray send me some images, to put 
in prayer-books. They are for my wife, who can gett none 
heare. I assure you it will be a greate present to her, and 
she will looke upon them often, for she is not only content 
to say the great office in the breviere every day, but like- 
wise that of our Lady too, and this is besides going to 
chapel, where she makes use of none of these ..." " My 
wife thanks you kindly for the images, you sent her, they 
are very fine ones, she never saw such before." On 22 
July, 1663, Madame wrote to her brother, hinting at his 
infidelities, and about this time he paid more attention to 
the Queen. 1 

In October Katherine fell ill, and almost died in 
November, but the King's care and display of affection in 
some measure contributed to her recovery ; Charles came 
and wept by her, "whereupon she said that she willingly 

1 Pepys, 13 July, 1663 : " Hearing that the K. and Q. are rode abroad 
with the Ladies of Honour to the Park, and seeing a great crowd of gallants 
staying here to see their return, I also staid walking up and down. By and by 
the K. and Q., who looked in this dress (a white laced waistcoat and a 
crimson short petty coat, and her hair dressed a la negligence) mighty pretty ; 
and the King rode hand in hand with her. Here was also my Lady Castle- 
maine rode among the rest of the ladies ; but the King took, methought, no 
notice of her ; nor when they 'light did anybody press (as she seemed to expect, 
and staid for it) to take her down, but was taken down by her own gentleman. 
She looked mighty out of humour, and had a yellow plume in her hat (which 
all took notice of), and yet is very handsome, but very melancholy ; nor did 
anybody speak to her, or she so much as smile or speak to anybody. I followed 
them up into White Hall, and into the Queen's presence, where all the ladies 
walked, talking and fiddling with their hats and feathers, and changing and 
trying one another's by one another's heads, and laughing. But it was the finest 
sight to me, considering their great beautys and dress, that ever I did see all 
in my life. But above all Mrs. Stewart in this dress with her hat cocked and 
a red plume." 


left all the world but him, which hath very much afflicted 
his Majesty, and all the Court with him." De Gramont 
hints that the King's grief was insincere and had anything 
but the result he desired ; but there is no doubt that it was 
genuine, at the moment, and that there is more truth than 
usual in Waller's lines : 

"He that was never known to mourn, 
So many kingdoms from him torn, 
His tears reserved for you, more dear, 
More prized, than all those kingdoms were ! 
For when no healing art prevailed, 
When cordials and elixirs failed, 
On your pale cheek he dropped the shower, 
Revived you like a dying flower." 

Not only grief, but also shame and remorse perhaps 
contributed to the King's emotion at his wife's bedside. 
" La nuit de vendredi ou samedi la Reine pensa mourir ; 
elle re^ut la viatique, fit son testament, et se fit couper les 
cheveux apres avoir donne ordre a ses affaires domestiques. 
Le Roi se jetta a ses genoux fondant en larmes ; elle le 
consola avec beaucoup de tranquillite et de douceur. Elle 
le rejouit d'etre bientot en 6tat de se pouvoir marier avec 
une p Me d'un plus grand me'rite, et qui put contribuer a 
sa satisfaction et du repos de PEtat. II fallut retirer le 
Roi de ce funeste spectacle, qui s'e"tait attendri jusques a 
1'eVanouissement, tout le jour se passa au crainte, le soir le 
sommeil lui donna quelque repos, la nuit se passa sans 
redoublement, et pre*sentement elle est en meilleur e"tat." 
. . . " Je sors prsentement de Whitehall, ou j'ai Iaiss6 la 
Reine dans un e"tat oil selon le jugement des mddecins, il 
y a peu de choses a esperer. Elle a requ 1'extreme oncti- 
on ce matin. . . . Les Portugais sont ici en fort mauvaise 
odeur et I'Ambassadeur n'est pas exempt de calomnies. 
On les accuse, et lui principalement, d'avoir contribue" par 
sa mauvaise conduite a la mort de la Reine, lui ayant fait 
passer deux nuits sans dormir, Tune a faire son testament, 
et 1'autre a recevoir les adieux de tous ses domestiques. 


II est vrai que, pour la satisfaire, Ton la laissa trois ou 
quatre jours entre leurs mains, mais le Roi ayant reconnu 
qu'ils contribuaient a son mal et meme qu'ils lui faisaient 
prendre beaucoup de remedes de leur pays, rompit ce 
commerce. Non-obstant les petits relaches qu'elle a de 
temps en temps, je de"sespere tout-a-fait de sa personne. 
. . . Le Roi me parait fort afflige. II soupa neanmoins 
hier au soir chez Mme. de Castlemaine et cut conversa- 
tions ordinaires avec Mile. Stuard dont il est fort amou- 
reux. L'on parle d6ja de le marier. Chacun lui donne 
une femme selon son inclination et il s'en trouve qui ne 
la cherchent pas hors d'Angletere." 

On 2 November, Charles wrote to Madame : " my wife 
is now out of all danger, though very weake, it was a very 
strange feaver, for she talked idly four or five dayes after 
the feaver had left her, but now that is likewise past, and 
she desires me to make her compliments to you and 
Monsieur, which she will doe herselfe, as soone as she 
gette strength. . . . C. R." The next day (the 5th) the 
poor Queen had to receive M. de Catten, the French envoy, 
with congratulations on her recovery. " Le Roi le reut 
avec beaucoup de satisfaction, et voulut qu'il vit la Reine, 
mais comme elle reposoit, et qu'il e"toit deja fort tard, la 
visite fut remise au lendemain. Je ne manquai pas de me 
rendre a 1'heure ordonnee, et le Roi nous introduisit dans 
la ruelle de son lit, 1 et prit la peine de faire les complimens 
de Votre Majeste et des Reines, avec assez de peine, car 
sa maladie 1'a rendue tellement sourde qu'elle entend 
qu'a force de crier a ses oreilles, encore faut-il s'en 
approcher de fort prez. Elle temoigna beaucoup de satis- 
faction, et repondit en peu de mots, mais fort intelligibles." 

By 10 December the Queen was well enough for a little 
ball to be held in the privy chamber, that she might look 
on, " and though we had many of our good faces absent, 
yett, I assure you, the assembly would not have been 

1 Ruelle = narrow passage between bed and wall, which Charles once used 
as the most private place possible for a secret interview with an ambassador. 


disliked for beauty, even at Paris itselfe, for we have a great 
many young women come up, since you were heere, who 
are very handsome." On 4 January, King and Queen both 
supped at Lady Castlemaine's. On 19 May, it is pleasant 
to find the King writing to Madame : " I have been all this 
afternoon playing the good husband, haveing been abroade 
with my wife, and 'tis now past 12 a clock, and I am very 

From 1662-70 the Queen still hoped for children, and 
in default of shrines whither to make pilgrimages, she 
sought physical aids in the various watering-places of 
England, of which Bath and Tunbridge were then the 
most famous. In July, 1663, the Court went to Tunbridge, 
" the place of all Europe most rural and simple, yet, at the 
same time, most entertaining and agreeable. Tunbridge 
is the same distance from London that Fontainebleau is 
from Paris, and is, at the season, the general rendezvous of 
all the gay and handsome of both sexes. The company, 
though always numerous, is always select : since those 
who repair thither for diversion, ever exceed the number 
of those who go thither for health. Everything there 
breathes mirth and pleasures ; constraint is banished, 
familiarity is established upon the first acquaintance, and 
joy and pleasure are the sole sovereigns of the place. The 
company are accommodated with lodgings in little, clean, 
and convenient, habitations, that lie straggling and 
separated from each other, a mile-and-a-half all round the 
Wells, where the company meet in the morning. This 
place consists of a long walk, shaded by spreading trees, 
under which they promenade while drinking the waters. 
On one side of this walk is a long row of shops, plenti- 
fully stocked with all manner of toys, lace, gloves, stockings 
and where there is raffling, as at Paris, in the Foire de St. 
Germain ; on the other side of the walk is the market ; 
and, as it is the custom here for every person to buy their 
own provisions, care is taken that nothing offensive appears 
on the stalls. Here young, fair, fresh-coloured country 


girls, with clean linen, small straw hats, and neat shoes 
and stockings, sell game, vegetables, flowers, and fruit ; 
here, one may live as one pleases : here is, likewise, deep 
play, and no want of amorous intrigues. 1 As soon as 
evening comes, every one quits his little palace to assemble 
at the bowling-green ; where in the open air, those who 
choose, dance upon a turf more soft and smooth than the 
finest carpet in the world . . . the Queen even surpassed 
her usual attentions in inventing and supporting enter- 
tainments ; she endeavoured to increase the natural ease 
and freedom of Tunbridge by dispensing with, rather than 
requiring, the ceremonies due to her presence. " In Sep- 
tember, the Court was at Bath, 2 whence Charles writes to 
Clarendon : " Bath, 8 September, 1663. I did not thinke 
it necessary to answer you till I could give you certaine 
information of the time my wife would stay heere, which I 
could not do till this day, it being the first time she has 
made use of the bath, we intende then god willing to leave 
this place on monday next come sennight, and a tewsday to 
be at Oxford, where we will stay till the monday following : 
my wife and I intend to dine with you at Cornbury the 
day we come to Oxford, which I think sufficient trouble 
for you, it would have beene impossible for us to have 
layne there with halfe the wemen we have, for you know 
the bagage and bagages of an army is the troublesomest 
part of it, but when I am at Oxford I may from thence go 

1 Cf. de Comminges (Jusserand, pp. 89-90, and Madame, p. I4S)> July, 
1663 : " Well may they be called les eaux de scandals, for they nearly ruined 
the good name of the maids and of the ladies (those, I mean, who were there 
without their husbands)." . . . " The waters are a little mtriolles." So Defoe 
says of Tunbridge : " Any person that looks like a gentleman, has an agree- 
able address, and behaves with decency and good manners, may single out 
whom he pleases, that does not appear engaged, and may talk, rally, and say 
anything decent to them." 

2 In 1672 there were two Baths here, the King's, or large bath, and the 
Queen's, a smaller one. They were surrounded by a gallery, whence ladies and 
men watched the bathers, most of whom apparently scorned all costume. In 
the middle of the bath rose a tall structure, with a cupola, rather like a market 
cross, where bathers could recline and chat. Cf. a contemporary print 
reproduced in Fea's Gramont (opp. p. 322). 


thither and to Woodstocke as I please and make a trayne 
accordingly. It is impossible for me to go to Worcester 
this time, for my trayne is so absolutely nothing, that I 
have no conveniency at all to performe such a iourny 
without robing my wife of hers, so I must not thinke of 
that voyage till next yeare. . . . My wife is very well 
pleased with the bath and finds herselfe in very good temper 
after : it, and I hope the effects will be as she desires, and so 
God keepe you. For the Chancelour." The various state- 
ments, indirect or otherwise, as to the queen's incapability, 
are fully negatived by the clearest evidence, from which it 
is enough to quote Charles' own statement to Madame : 
" My wife miscarried this morning." But later in the reign 
the Queen despaired of children, especially as the King 
neglected her more and more for the Duchess of Ports- 
mouth. Ruvigny tells Louis XIV that the Queen's con- 
solation was her basset-table. 1 She never left the circle in 
the evening, unless the King offered his hand to lead her 
from the room. She was often ailing, and was subject to 
frequent nervous headaches. Barillon writes to his 
master : " Le Roy vint dire a la Royne sa femme ce qui 
s'etoit passe a la Chambre haute. Et, pour lui donner 
une marque d'amitie" extraordinaire, il s'assit apres son 
disner dans sa chambre et y dormit long temps. Ce qu'il 
n'a accoustume de faire que chez mme. de Portsmouth." 

In September, 1680, the Queen wrote the following 
letter to the Duke of Ormond on the death of his son 
Lord Ossory : " My Lord Duke of Ormond, I do not think 
anything I can say, will lessen your trouble for the death 
of my Lord Ossory, who is so great a loss to the King and 
the publick, as well as to my own particular service, that 
I know not how to express it. But I must have so much 
pity upon you, as to say but little on so sad a subject, 
conjuring you to believe that I am, My Lord Duke of 

1 Basset was the fashionable card-game, though ombre and lanterloo were 
also played : cf. Waller, On a Card that Her Majaty tore at Ombre. Basset 
was celebrated by Etheredge and Mrs. Centlivre. 


Ormond, Your very affectionate friend, Catherina Regina." 
All those who really knew the Queen spoke of great good- 
ness and kindness, and it was with real feeling that Waller 
wrote his little poem, " Sung by Mrs. Knight to Her Majesty 
on Her Birthday," wherein he compares her to her saintly 
namesake ; for it is clear that she had really attached that 
courtly poet, from the number of poems he addressed to 
her among the not very numerous productions of his old 
age. Madame speaks of Katherine as "a very good 
woman, not handsome, but so kind and excellent that it is 
impossible not to love her." The only incident that I 
have noticed as recorded against her, may be explained 
simply as a question of Court etiquette Place aux plus 
grandes dames : " I can't tell if in my last I told you that 
when the Queene was at Hampton Court one day riding 
abroad, it raining, and my Lady Marshall and Lady 
Gerrard being in her coach, her Majestic came into y" 
coach and called in the two Duchesses, Buckingham and 
Richmond, and left the other ladyes upon y e common to 
shift for themselves, w ch you may beleeve was no small 
griefe to them." 

We are indebted to Queen Katherine for making tea 
popular in England ; for though it was known at least as 
early as 1658, her example set the fashion for its use. 
Waller writes one of his graceful little poems on 


" Venus her myrtle, Phoebus has his bays, 
Tea both excels, which she vouchsafes to praise, 
The best of queens, and best of herbs we owe 
To that bold nation which the way did shew 
To the fair region where the sun does rise, 
Whose rich productions we so justly prize. 
The Muse's friend, tea does our fancy aid, 
Repress those vapours which the head invade, 
And keeps that palace of the soul serene, 
Fit on her birthday to salute the queen." 


Like the rest of the Court ladies, the Queen was fond 
of " dressing up " ; and once went with the Duchesses of 
Richmond and Buckingham, dressed as country people in v 
red petticoats, waistcoats, etc., to a fair at Newport in 
Essex, near Audley End. Sir Barnard Gascoigne, on a 
cart jade, rode before the Queen, another stranger before 
the Duchess of Buckingham, and Mr. Roper before the 
Duchess of Richmond. They had all overdone their 
disguise, " and looked so much more like antiques than 
country volk, that, as soon as they come to the faire, the 
people began to goe after them ; but the Queen going to 
a booth, to buy a pair of yellow stockings for her sweet 
hart, and Sir Barnard asking for a pair of gloves stitched 
with blew, for his sweet hart, they were soon, by their 
gebrish, found out to be strangers, which drew a bigger 
flock about them. One amongst them had seen the Queen 
at dinner, knew her, and was proud of her knowledge. 
This soon brought all the faire into a crowd to stare at 
the Queen. Being thus discovered, they, as soon as they 
could, got to their horses ; but as many of the faire as had 
horses got up, with their wives, children, sweetharts or 
neighbours, behind them, to get as much gape as they 
could, till they brought them to the court gate. Thus, by 
ill conduct, was a merry frolick turned into a penance." 
Another time the Queen went out incognito in a chair, but 
the chairman not knowing her, left her, and she had to 
return to Whitehall in a hackney coach. At last the Queen 
was dissuaded from such adventures by the Earl of 
Manchester, then Lord Chamberlain. Fishing was the 
favourite diversion of the Queen in the later years of the 
reign, insomuch that she would get up at six o'clock to 
pursue that sport. The King also was a keen fisherman, 
and Rochester satirized him as " Flatfoot, the gudgeon- 

Tangier and Bombay were included in the Queen's 
dowry, and at the same time Charles sold Dunkirk, a real 
advantage, but an unpopular action, attributed to the 


Chancellor's advice. For some time our commercial 
prosperity and wealth had been steadily growing, and 
watched with increasing jealousy by the Dutch. In 1665, 
a series of hostile actions on both sides, broke into open 
and declared war. The matter was splendidly fought by 
Dutch and English, and if our advantage in the earlier 
stages of the war, especially in the great Four Days' Battle, 
had been followed up, the war might have been glorious and 
successful ; as it was, disagreements and distrusts between 
King and Parliament, incompetency and dishonesty of 
officials, at last led to such supineness that the Dutch in 
June, 1667, sailed up the Medway, burnt some of our fleet, 
and captured the " Royal Charles " ; while King and 
courtiers fooled away the hours, being at that very time, 
all mad in chasing a poor moth in Miss Stewart's rooms. 
We were forced to make peace, though we gained 
Delaware, New Jersey, and New York in exchange for 
Poleroon. The war produced some famous pieces of 
literature, notably Waller's " Last Instructions to a 
Painter" dealing with the glorious Four Days' Battle in 
June, 1665 ; Dryden's " Annus Mirabilis" which discussed 
with much parade of technical detail the events of 1665-66 ; 
and lastly, in 1667, Marvell's scathing answer to Waller's 
poem, in which he displayed all his minute political know- 
ledge in a way no doubt intensely galling at the time, but 
whose very effectiveness as a topical satire, has prevented 
its ranking as a classic, except in so far as it voices the 
general indignation felt by honest men at the misconduct 
of the war. Marvell in turn instructed his Painter to draw 
a very different picture from Waller's : and the idea be- 
came so fashionable, especially as a political weapon, that 
in 1680, a broadside remarked : 

" Each puny brother of the'riming trade 
At every turn implores the painter's aid ; 
And fondly enamour'd of his own foul brat, 
Cries in an ecstasy, Paint this, Paint that." 

Of the first great battle of the war, the King writes to 


Madame: "Whithall 8 June 1665 : I thank God we have 
now the certayne newes of a very considerable victory over 
the Dutch ; you will see most of the particulars by the 
relation my Lord Hollis will shew you, though I have had 
as great a loss as it is possible in a good frinde, poore 
C. Barckely. 1 It troubles me so much as I hope you will 
excuse the shortnesse of this letter, haveing receaved 
the newes of it, but two houres agoe, . . . my head does 
soe ake. . . ." On hearing of Berkeley's death, Charles 
burst into a flood of tears, for he was his favourite among 
the Court. No one else seemed to have a good word for 
this nobleman, though Burnet acknowledges he showed 
signs of improvement, and might have had a very good 
influence over the King, if he had lived. After his death, 
there was found in his closet " a list of all lords and gentle- 
men that had suffered during the Grand Rebellion, and 
those living, and the successors of others, were set down as 
objects of the King's favour and advancement. One finds 
rarely such a one in any Court" 

During the War, great events changed the capital ; 
the Plague in 1665-66, and the Fire in 1666, helped to 
disturb the machine of Government. The Plague has 
been described for all time by Defoe, who was too young 
at the time to remember much about it, but had a wonder- 
fully vivid imagination and an insatiable curiosity ; and 
Pepys gives us the most vivid account of the Fire, on 
2 September, 1666. "All over the Thames, with one's 
face in the wind, you were calm burned with a shower of 
fire-drops ... as it grew darker, the fire appeared more 
and more, and in corners and upon steeples, and between 
churches and houses, as far as one could see up the hill of 
the City, in a most horrid malicious bloody flame, not like 
the fine flame of an ordinary fire ... we saw the fire as 
only one entire arch of fire from this to the other side of 

1 Earl of Falraouth : he was struck by a cannon-ball, while standing on 
deck, by the Duke of York, so that his blood and brains flew over the Duke. 
He died penniless, through 'generosity to old Cavaliers. (Clarke, i. 397.) 

FIRES 191 

the bridge, and in a bow up the hill for an arch of above a 
mile long ; it made me weep to see it. ... " The King 
and the Duke of York worked indefatigably in the streets, 
commanding, encouraging, helping, and advising. The 
King remitted the City's taxes for a time, and was 
implored by the citizens not to leave them. The Duke 
rode up and down with his guards for some days to 
maintain order. It is a strange fact that no one died 
directly by fire, though foreigners and Catholics came in 
for much ill-treatment, as being generally thought authors 
of it. A half-witted Frenchman, Hubert, actually gave 
himself up as the author ; but the Privy Council con- 
cluded, and we may conclude with them, that it was 
caused by " the hand of God, a great wind, and a very 
dry season " ; its vast extent was due to the great number 
of wooden buildings, many filled with tar, oil, and other 
combustibles, near its place of origin ; and the primitive 
methods of repressing fire. North, in his Autobiography, 
has left a vivid picture of a fire at the Temple in 1678. 
"Several great men, and officers of the Guards, with 
soldiers, came by direction to Whitehall where the light 
was seen in its most terrible posture the Earl of Craven, 
who was seldom absent on such occasions, the Duke of 
Monmouth, who was setting up to be popular, and the 
Earl of Faversham, who, by adventuring too far upon a 
blowing-up, when it was thought the train missed, it 
happened to take, and a beam fell on his head, for which 
he was obliged to undergo the trepan, and though 
dangerously wounded, recovered. . . . About midnight, 
the Lord Mayor and Sheriffs came down, but the gentle- 
men of the Inner Temple affronted him, not owning his 
authority there, according to old tradition among them, 
and would want his help rather than connive at such a 
precedent to be made in derogation of their liberties, 
whereupon they beat down the sword, and would not 
permit it to be borne erect. At this he went over the way 
to a tavern, where some say he first got drunk, and then 


returned, dismissing the engine he met coming from the 
city. And some of his company were so kind to say, 
'Let's blow 'em up round, and save Fleet Street.' . . . 
All this while the fire went raging in all the buildings 
about Pump Court, the south of Elm Court, towards the 
cloisters and the church, with an incredible fury. The 
chambers were small and so full of deal that a pitch 
barrel could not burn fiercer. I could perceive in the 
chambers at their first lighting a faint fire, which was still 
more obscured by smoke, and at last the heat melted the 
glass of the windows, which let in the wind, and that 
converted all the smoke into flame, which came issuing at 
the windows, with a noise and fury like so many vents of 
hell, and at length the floors and roofs firing, the cold 
tiles with the suddenness of the heat would make a strange 
noise, crackling and snapping, till all came down together, 
and then such flakes of fire would rise and scatter down 
the wind as if all the sky were inflamed, and so drop upon 
the actors as well as the spectators, and burnt their clothes 
on their backs ; the horror of this fire was as great as 
could possibly be contrived had it been designed for 
wonder, and no other instance in my observation, or 
description of poet or painter, ever came near it. And it 
was no less extreme on the other side, for the cold was 
intense in the fiercest degree that our clime admits. The 
water froze in carrying, and closed the engines with the 
ice that continually grew in it. Water was let down from 
the street, but froze and stopped its own current. Those 
that assisted were all wet and frozen ; the flames did not 
heat the air to warm such as were idle. ... It is believed 
that houses are often fired by thieves for opportunities of 
stealing ; this was not so ; nor was any great execution of 
that kind don' amongst us ; for the Templers, being 
sharpers, were /are, and suffered no unknown persons to 
meddle in thei Business. It is otherwise in houses where 
women and children are frighted and know not what they 
do, and give y to such thievish impositions. Here it 


was observed that women and children stood in Fleet 
Street, ankle deep in water (for all the pipes were cut) 
which in that pinching cold night could not have been in 
such numbers and so pertinaciously as they did unless 
their husbands and friends were gone in to steal, and they 
stayed expecting to carry off the booty. . . . This fire 
lasted from n on Sunday eve till 12 next day. . . . 
By noon there was a great assembly of all sorts, spending 
their verdicts, which generally turned into raillery upon 
the Templers. One says, ' What a world of mischief this 
had been had it happened anywhere else ! ' Others, ' it's 
no matter, the lawyers are rich enough ! ' . . . a decrepid 
old woman, trudging through the Temple when the new 
buildings were in some forwardness, stopped . . . and saw 
the scaffolding poles raised, and men every where at 
work ; ' Well,' said she, ' I see ill weeds will grow fast ! ' " 
In the Great Fire, 89 churches were destroyed, and 
above 12,000 houses. Evelyn promptly drew up plans for 
rebuilding the City, which were favourably received, but 
afterwards neglected, at Court, and a jerry-built city 
sprang up with amazing rapidity, and in many cases with 
no improvement. The next chapter shall attempt to give 
some idea of the state of London in Charles II's reign. 


"Lord, what a power of brave signs are here." 

WYCHERLEY, Country Wife, 

London under Charles II Streets, taverns, shopping, travelling, 
holidays, amusements Dress and fashions Games Furniture. 

LONDON was then a walled city, with gates 
locked at night, and ill roads, almost unlighted 
after dark. Link-boys had to be hired or links 
bought, and even then, if late or in lonely streets, a man 
on foot was liable to be attacked by footpads, rogues with 
cudgels, and the like, more especially in the disorder and 
confusion of the ruined streets after the Fire. Meadows 
and streams pleasantly diversified the suburbs immediately 
outside the walls, and a dweller in the City could rise 
in the morning and take the air, pluck a nosegay, or wash 
her face in May-dew, before breakfast. People of rank or 
important official station either provided themselves, or 
were provided, with armed escorts to and from places out- 
side the City, such as the " Angel " at Islington, on account 
of the footpads and highwaymen. Were not these the 
days of Claude Duval? Within the walls at night few 
people were to be met, except in the small hours of the 
morning during the Plague, when the death-cart with 
its monotonous and doleful bell moved from red-cross 
door to door with the cry " Bring out your dead." Still a 
grumbler or a light sleeper could find some noises at 
night : the bells of a solemn funeral, starting about eleven 


o'clock, the bellman telling the hour and the state of 
weather "Past one o'clock, and a cold, frosty, windy 
morning," and repeating worse rhymes than a cast poet 
of the nursery could make ; those rogues that wake people 
with their barbarous tunes, and upon their tooting instru- 
ments make a more hellish noise than they do at a Play- 
house when they flourish for the entrance of witches and 
a little later the street-cries beginning. 

Earlier on the evening, occasional lights are cast on 
the streets from tavern red lattices, from within which 
float sounds of mirth, drunken or more seemly, mingled 
with the music of a club, or the droning of a literary 
society, wise enough to keep up its existence by wine and 
good fellowship. Often a door is burst open, and men 
stagger forth in various strange guises, occasionally stark 
naked, only to fall foul of the watch and afterwards of the 
magistrates, always supposing that they have not escaped 
by slaying or grievously wounding the officers of peace. 
Methinks 'tis as pretty an honest, drinking, whoring age 
as a man would wish to live in ! The streets are full of 
mud in wet weather, of thick and choking dust in dry, 
and where paved, set with the worst of uneven cobbles, 
on which the hackney coaches rattle, and waggons roar 
and thunder, till distracted citizens welcome the sight of a 
passing sedan-chair with only the steady tramp of bearers 
to mark its passage. At rare intervals passes the glass 
coach of some fine lady or lord, stared upon by a gaping 
crowd. In many of the streets, the top stories of houses 
nearly meet, and the whole way is darkened by monstrous 
swinging signs, by poles with party-coloured bands and 
brass basins, by golden lions, griffins, and elephants, by 
hogs in armour, by portraits of His Sacred Majesty, or 
pictures of the Sacred Tree which preserved his life ; by 
Crowns and Rasps, by Angels, Black Boys, and Globes, 
each sign or figure striving to outdo its neighbour in 
attractiveness and size, in the elaborateness of its painting 
or carving, and frequently setting forth rhymes, for such as 


can read, over or under the picture : such as at Mr. Farr's 
shop, " The Best Tobacco by Farr," and at his rival's over 
the way, " Far better Tobacco than the Best Tobacco by 
Farr," and so on. These signs, swinging on their creaking 
hinges, while affording a weather sign by this very noise, 
add to the extraordinary din which pervades the streets, 
not so much a dull and continuous roar, but a confusion 
of all shrill, harsh, grating, rattling, thundering, and rushing 
noises, mingled with street-cries of " Oranges, who'll buy 
my chancy oranges, my dill and cucumbers to pickle," 
prentices' touting cries, carters' oaths, porters' and water- 
men's shouts. 

In the taverns, not only the guest rooms had special 
names, but also the very tankards, and everything was at 
once more homely and picturesque than at present, though 
the city taverns could not compare for comfort and luxury 
with some of the provincial inns on great roads. Breakfast, 
not being a regular meal, usually consists of a morning 
draught at a tavern, taken perhaps with a bunch of radishes 
or somewhat else. Dinner comes about twelve, either at 
home or at a tavern such as the "Leg" in King Street, 
Westminster. Supper is fairly early for the citizen, though 
it may be as late as eleven o'clock for the courtier ; if not 
at home, it may be eaten at Whitehall with the King or 
the reigning favourite ; or, by a citizen, at Vauxhall, or 
Spring Gardens, to the accompaniment of music, or if that 
be still, to the dying fall of the nightingale's strains. 
Hither you may come and spend much or nothing ; walk, 
flirt, drink, or take your pleasure in listening to the harp, 
Jew's harp and fiddle, or in looking upon the gallant array 
of people. If vanity possesses you, you may retire to 
Sir Samuel Moreland's summerhouse built all of looking- 
glass, covered with Cornish slate, topped by a punchinello 
holding a dial, and fitted with fountains. Collations may 
be taken at a cabaret in the midst of the gardens, of neats' 
tongues, powdered beef, and bad Rhenish, trifling tarts, 
and the like, while the company may often be stricken 

SHOPS 197 

into mirth by the sight of a dripping country put, who 
has trod upon the spring from which the gardens derive 
their name, and drenched himself by letting loose a fountain. 
These gardens are set with lawns, gravel walks, arbours, 
and hedges of gooseberry bushes and roses. 

Passing from one part of London to another by land is 
so objectionable, that the journey is made as often as 
possible by water, where your waterman, if you be a lord 
or a parliament man, will ply you with questions on la 
haute politique. Most people leave the boat at London 
Bridge, rather than shoot its roaring and perilous arches. 
The watermen tout eagerly for custom at the river stairs, 
crying "Oars, oars, who wants a boat to Vauxhall," and 
so forth. At the shop-doors still stand, as in the days of 
Elizabeth, the apprentices crying " What d'ye lack ? " and 
these same stout lads still rally, for a Pope-burning, an 
expedition to break windows of bawdy houses, Shrove- 
Tuesday football in the streets, or at the cry of " Clubs for 
Prentices ! " But shops are in a transition stage to the 
modern type: they are becoming a fashionable resort 
at certain times of day ; ladies frequent the mercers, 
haberdashers and toy-shops, gentlemen the armourers, 
goldsmiths, and booksellers. The Old and New Exchange 
are crammed with people of all ranks from the highest to 
the lower-middle class, in the morning and early afternoon. 
The Old Exchange, on Cornhill, contains on the ground 
floor, the place where the merchants assemble to do 
business ; and over this, four spacious galleries, in which 
are many shops of different kinds, even better than those 
of the New Exchange in Covent Garden, which has two 
long double galleries, one above the other, in which are 
distributed in eight rows, many rich shops of drapers, 
mercers, rilled with goods of all kinds and qualities. These 
are for the most part kept by women well-dressed and 
busily employed, but not without chances of flirtation with 
passers-by, and crying at intervals, " What d'ye buy ? what 
d'ye buy, gentlemen ? gloves, ribbons, and essences ; ribbons, 


gloves, and essences ? scent your eyebrows and periwig 
with a little essence of orange or jessamine." Assignations 
are frequently made and arranged at such shops. 

The citizens' amusements are principally fencing- 
matches, cock-fighting, bear horse, and bull baitings, 
puppet-shows and the theatres. On holidays the suburb 
fools trudge to Lamb's Conduit or Tottenham ; your 
sprucer sort of citizens gallop to Epsom ; your mechanic 
gross fellows, shewing much conjugal affection, strut before' 
their wives, each with a child in his arms, to Islington or 
Hogsden ; your jack-in-office sets forth to the country 
for a dish of cream and cherries. A poor lady and her 
waiting-woman, not suffered to go abroad by a strict father, 
may bewail themselves that they cannot go to Punchinello 
or Paradise ; nor take a ramble to the Park nor Mulberry 
Garden, nor to Totnam-Court, nor to Islington, nor eat a 
syllabub in New Spring Garden with a cousin, nor drink 
a pint of wine with a friend at the " Prince " in the " Sun," 
nor hear a fiddle in good company, nor hear the organs 
and tongs at the " Gun " in Moorfields. 

Dress, immediately after the Restoration, burst into a 
wild and joyful efflorescence after the " close time " of 
the Commonwealth, an efflorescence, largely of ribbon, 
which appeared wherever possible. The men wear " short 
coats and slit sleeves, shewing much linen ; ruffled petti- 
coat, or long wide breeches, adorned with cannons or frills 
of lace or ribbons at the knees, lace cravats, broad-brimmed 
feathered hats, small cloaks, shoes square-toed, high-heeled, 
and tied with long-ended bow of ribbon. The ladies have 
short slit, be-ribboned sleeves, low-necked bodices, full 
skirts, usually of satin." In 1667, the King announced his 
intention of breaking away from the French fashion of 
dress, and assuming the Persian style, " a long cassocke 
close to the body of black cloth and pinked with white 
silk under it, and a coat over it, and the legs ruffled with 
black ribband like a pigeon's legs." The King soon 
decided that black and white made them look like 

DRESS 199 

magpies, and took to an all black velvet suit. Louis XIV 
revenged himself by dressing his footmen in this style, and 
thus caused the noblemen who had bet the King he 
would not keep to the new fashion, to win their wagers. 
Men's gloves were fringed, scented with jasmine or 
orange ; ladies (and sometimes men also) wore long gloves 
which came up the arm, and preferred those from Martial's 
at Paris. Both women and men used muffs. For a short 
time after the Restoration men usually wore their hair 
long, but periwigs soon came in, the King being behind- 
hand in this, as in most other fashions. Gradually the 
periwig assumed a disproportionate place in daily life, both 
as an expense, and as an object of attention, affection, even 
of veneration, a white peruke being the ne plus ultra of 
elegance. The gentlemen always carried special pocket- 
combs wherewith to dress their wigs in the ante-room on 
paying a call, or on entering the theatre ; and these combs 
were only more important than the side-glass wherewith 
they quizzed the ladies from their boxes, or as they passed 
in the Mall or the Park. The wig was at first more or less 
even on the top, though long and curly, but it became 
exaggerated in height, length, and curliness, swelling out 
above into a great excrescence called a foretop, which was 
made to wag or bow portentously when a gallant made a 
reverence to a lady. The beau monde got their wigs from 
the famous Parisian perruquier Chedreux, and never put 
their hats on for fear of spoiling them. The ladies wore 
their hair for a time " in a peculiar loop on their foreheads, 
called a fore-top, which gave rise to another fashion, less 
common, called a faure or bull's head, being an arrange- 
ment of hair on the forehead like the close curls of a bull. 
The loose forehead curls were called ' favourites ' ; the 
long locks, arranged over a frame to hang away from the 
face over the ears, 'heart-breakers,' and those close to 
the cheeks, ' confidents.' " Much art was employed in 
arranging or dyeing the hair so as to display fascinating 
shades as the lady moved her head, and patches were 


much worn. Hardly a single comedy of the reign which 
is at all concerned with the upper classes fails to notice 
with ridicule the slavish copying of French fashions, and 
the constant use of French terms and phrases in conversa- 
tion. Butler took the pains to write a satire 


"... To make their breeches fall and rise 
From middle legs to middle thighs 
The tropics between which the hose 
Move always as the fashion goes. 
Sometimes wear hats like pyramids, 
And sometimes flat, like pipkins' lids ; 
With broad brims sometimes, like umbrellas, 
And sometimes narrow, like Punch'nellos ; 
In coldest weather go unbrac'd, 
And close in hot, as if th' were lac'd ; 
Sometimes with sleeves and bodies wide, 
And sometimes straiter than a hide ; 
Wear perukes, and with false grey hairs 
Disguise the true ones, and their years, . . . 
Disdain the country where th' were born, . . . 
To adorn their English with French scraps . . . 
To jernie rightly and renounce 
In the most pure and approved of tones . . . 
To smatter French is meritorious, 
And to forget their mother-tc ngue 
Or purposely to talk it wrong, 
A hopeful sign of parts and wit." 

In one particular, however, the French Ambassador notes 
that English ladies differed from the French ; silk stockings, 
especially green ones, were worn, with diamond-buckled 
black velvet garters below the knee, but many ladies 
preferred to show " their white satin skins, by wearing 

Some idea of the variety of scents used by both sexes 
may be gleaned from the following inventory : " In a 
sappin boxe or coffre, a little boxe with twelve little phiales 


of Essence of Roses and six of Jessamin. Ane other w l> a 
silver little box guilded, set w* turquoises full of eau 
d'ange, and half a douzen bottels of essence of orange ; 
a big bottell of water of flower of orange, a big boxe of 
fyne pomode w*' jessemin poudre, a paire of very great 
tables or trick-track, w l four rame of paper and musqued 
waxe and black waxe, w l ane escritore as was desyned." 
Widows used scents different from those favoured by 

As they are here mentioned, it may be said that the 
fashions in wax and writing-paper varied, and were care- 
fully studied by ladies. The King writes to Madame, 
28 March, 1663 : " I thanke you for the wax to scale 
letters, you sent me by de Chappelles. I desire to know 
whether it be the fashion in France, for the wemen to 
make use of such a large size of wax, as the red peece you 
sent mee ; our wemen heere finde the sise a little extra- 
vagant, yett I beleeve when they shall know that 'tis the 
fashion there, they will be willing enough to submitt to it, 
and so I am yours, C. R." 

Though by no means such a necessary part of a man's 
dress as in the eighteenth century, snuff-boxes were carried, 
and there is at least one good story to be told in connection 
v/ith one. "A thief dressed like a courtier got into the 
palace at Newmarket, and picked Lord Arlington's pocket 
of a snuff-box. He saw that the King was watching him, 
and had the impudence to put his ringers to his nose, wink, 
and then make off. Presently Charles saw Lord Arlington 
searching in all his pockets for his snuff-box, and said : 
' You need not give yourself any more trouble about it ; 
your box is gone, and I am myself an accomplice. I 
could not help it. I was made a confidant.' " Watches 
were frequently worn, including " finger watches, that go 
just as you set them." To conclude this matter of appoint- 
ments, Wycherley draws a contrast between the dress 
of courtiers and citizens: "You good men of th' 


" on whom alone we must depend, when sparks to sea are gone ; 
Into the pit already you are come, 
'Tis but a step more to the tiring-room ; . . . 
. . . You we had rather see between our scenes, 
Than spendthrift fops with better clothes and miens : 
Instead of laced coats, belts, and pantaloons, 
Your velvet jumps, gold chains, and grave fur gouns ; 
Instead of periwigs and broad cocked hats, 
Your satin caps, small cuffs, and vast cravats . . . 
... To all the camlet cloaks now in the pit ... " 

Among the indoor amusements of the Court, besides 
basset and numerous other card-games, battledore and 
shuttlecock, shovel-board, crying of forfeits, blind man's 
buff, crambo, and " I love my love with an A," were 

Finally, before proceeding with the narrative of events, 
what were houses, and their appointments like, in the 
reign of Charles II ? The Tuscan Duke noticed "a great 
absence of that gentility which is practised in Italy : for 
there are no forks, nor vessels to supply water for the 
hands, which are washed in a basin full of water that 
serves for all the company ; or perhaps at the end of 
dinner, they dip the end of the napkin into the beaker 
of water set before each guest, and with this they clean 
their teeth, and wash their hands." Men sat at meals 
with their hats on. 

Walls were hung with stamped Spanish leather, tapestry 
with " Landskips," or " Venice brocatella ; " furniture 
was covered with various materials, green damask being 
fashionable at least in 1670. An ordinary day-room was 
furnished with fauteuils or armed-chairs, chairs, tabourets 
or stools, sofas, and looking-glasses. Earthen and wood 
table-ware were still in frequent use among the middle 
classes, even at a Lord Mayor's feast. 




" Fair, lovely, great, and best of nymphs, farewell ! " 

WALLER, To the Duchess of Orleans. 

Fall of Clarendon Temple and the Triple Alliance Am- 
bassadors Henrietta, Duchess of Orldans Treaty of Dover 
Marriage of William of Orange and Mary of York Beginnings of 
Popish Plot MarvelPs " King's Speech." 

THE Plague, the Fire, and the burning of the fleet 
gave fresh impetus to the spirit of Puritanism, 
Anti-Catholicism, and discontent ; the govern- 
ment looked for a scapegoat, and naturally fell upon the 
Earl of Clarendon. He was hated by the Commons for 
representing the King in money matters, by the King for 
supporting the Parliament in things religious ; by the 
people for " Dunkirk, Tangier, and a barren Queen," and 
his lavish expenditure on his new house ; the fleet dis- 
asters were also partly due to his mismanagement of 
money affairs. The Puritans saw in him the chief per- 
secutor ; the courtiers, the stiff and solemn old cavalier. His 
fall was hastened by the hatred of Lady Castlemaine and 
the Duke of Buckingham ; while the last straw was the 
affair of Frances Stewart. The King was remarkably in 
love with this childish but artful beauty, and when she 
eloped with the Duke of Richmond was more furiously 
angry than he had ever been known to be. He believed 
that Clarendon had known of her intention to marry the 
Duke, and had arranged it, so that the King could not 
divorce his wife and marry her, and on the night that 


Frances left Whitehall, Viscount Cornbury, Clarendon's 
eldest son, met the King coming out of her lodgings, " full 
of fury, who spoke to him as one in a rage that forgot all 
decency, and for some time would not hear Lord Corn- 
bury in his own defence." Clarendon rendered up the 
Great Seal in August, 1667, and, being impeached by 
Parliament in November, fled to France, where he lived 
for the rest of his days, dying at Rouen in 1674, though 
not before he had written his " History of the Great 
Rebellion," and his autobiography. Charles was certainly 
ungrateful, but it is also true that, while Clarendon was 
not quite so fine a man as Hyde, he continued to be Hyde 
in the wrong things, such as interference with the King, 
haughtiness, and obstinacy. He was wholly unable to 
adapt himself to the new regime ; his use and purpose were 
fulfilled at and by the Restoration ; in the new age he was 
at a loss, and his methods had become antiquated and, in 
some cases, pernicious. 

It was in these later stages of his career that the 
younger courtiers found it safe to vent their dislike by 
ridiculing him before the King, as when Killegrew or 
Buckingham strutted up and down bearing the shovel and 
bellows for mace and great seal! The King shows his 
feelings in the matter plainly, in a letter to Madame, 
5 March, 1668 : " I will not deny that naturally I am more 
lazy then I ought to be, but you are very ill-informed if 
you do not know that my Tresury and indeede all my 
other affaires, are in as good a methode as our under- 
standings can put them into. And I thinke the peace 
I have made betweene Spaine and portugal and the de- 
fensive league I have made with Holland should give 
some testimony to the world that we thinke of our interest 
heere. I do assure you that I neglect nothing for want 
of pains. If we faile for want of understanding, there is 
no helpe for it. ... I assure you that my Lord of Buck- 
ingham does not governe affaires heere. I do not doute 
but my Lord Clarendon, and some of his frinds heere, 


will discreditt me and my affaires as much as they can, but 
I shall say no more upon that subject, for, if you knew 
how ill a servant he has beene to me, you would not doute 
but he would be glad things should not go on smoothly, 
now he is out of affaires, and most of the vexation and 
trouble I have at present in my affaires I owe to him." 
As an engine of constitutional government, there seems to 
be more to be said for Clarendon than this ; as a supporter 
of monarchy considerably less limited than that of Charles 
at this time, something, but as the minister of a despotism 
such as Charles contemplated, he was not only useless, 
but a great obstacle to progess. His removal left Charles 
freer to choose his own ministers, and the like ; and when 
"Secretary Morrice brought the Great Scale from my 
Lord Chancellor, Bab May fell upon his knees and catched 
the King about the legs, and joyed him, and said that this 
was the first time that ever he could call him King of 
England, being freed from this great man." Bab May 
was not the only one who rejoiced at Clarendon's disgrace. 
"This business of my Lord Chancellor's was certainly 
designed in my Lady Castlemaine's chamber; and that 
when he went from the King on Monday morning she was 
in bed (though about twelve o'clock), and ran out in her 
smock into her aviary looking out into White Hall garden ; 
and thither her woman brought her her nightgown ; and 
stood blessing herself at the old man's going away ; and 
several of the gallants of White Hall (of which there were 
many staying to see the Chancellor's return), did talk to 
her in her bird-cage, among others Blancford, telling her 
she was the bird of passage." 

The King summed up the matter in a letter to Ormond : 
" The truth is, his behaviour and humour were grown so 
insupportable to myself and all the world else that I could 
no longer endure it, and it was impossible for me to live 
with it." In truth, Clarendon's dictatorial manner, and 
making " the King to trot every day to him, though he 
was well enough to visit a cousin," coincided fatally with 


the popular feeling against him and gave the King a 
reason, but not an excuse, for one of the worst actions 
of his reign. It was perhaps well that he should have 
been asked to resign, but force, with contumely, was un- 

In 1668, Sir William Temple was allowed by his Master 
to conclude the Triple Alliance between England, Holland, 
and Sweden, against France, in order that Charles might 
thus force Louis' hand, and gain a high price for the 
English alliance. Sir William was an accomplished 
diplomat, a polished litterateur, and a clever gardener, 
but he was no match for Charles in state-craft. In 
1669-70, Charles and Louis, through Madame, concluded 
the "Secret Treaty of Dover," by which England and 
France agreed to partition Holland, and Louis promised 
money and soldiers to Charles, to enable him to establish 
absolutism and the Catholic religion. This treaty was 
signed in May, 1670, by Clifford and Arlington, the 
English Catholic Ministers, and covered in January, 1671, 
by a sham treaty, to blind the Protestant members of the 
Cabal, Buckingham, Ashley, and Lauderdale. In March, 
1672, began the third Dutch War. 

No period, perhaps, of Charles' reign is more full of 
the rustle and bustle, the whispering and mystery of quasi- 
political intrigue, than 1667-72 ; but the whole reign is 
notable for the number of ambassadors, the splendour of 
their receptions, and the minute accounts which the 
French at least gave of all that they saw and did. But 
none of the ambassadors is more important than the 
King's sister, Henrietta Anne, Duchess of Orleans, usually 
called Madame. She was born at Exeter in 1644, smug- 
gled out of the country in boy's clothes, and spent all the 
rest of her life in France, save for two visits to England, 
in October, 1660, to March, 1661, and in 1670. She was 
loved by all, French and English, who had the happiness 
to know her, and appreciated by most, except perhaps her 
strange husband Philippe, Due d'Orteans, an effeminate 


and vicious fop. She was, of course, brought up a Catholic. 
In 1659 Sir John Reresby visited Henrietta Maria at the 
Palais Royal, and says that the young Princess was " then 
aged about 15 years, and used me with all the civil free- 
dom that might be, made me dance with her, played on 
the harpsichord to me in her Highness's chamber, suffered 
me to attend upon her, when she walked in the garden 
with the rest of her retinue, and sometimes to toss her in 
a swing made of a cable which she sat upon, tied between 
two trees, and in fine, suffered me to be present at most of 
her innocent diversions. The Queen commanded me to 
be there, as often as I conveniently could. She had a 
great affection for England, notwithstanding the severe 
usage she and hers had received from it. She discoursed 
much with the great men and ladies of France in praise of 
the people and country of their courage, their generosity 
and good nature and would attribute the rebellion to a 
few desperate and infatuated persons, rather than the 
temper of the nation." Just before Charles' visit to his 
mother and sister at Colombes in 1659, the Princess's first 
extant letter is addressed to him : " I would not let my 
Milord Inchiquin leave, without assuring your Majesty 
of my respect, and thanking you for the honour you do 
me, in writing to me so often. I fear that this may give 
you too much trouble, and I should be sorry if your 
Majesty should take so much for a little sister, who does 
not deserve it, but who can at least acknowledge and 
rejoice in the honour you do her. I hope the peace will 
give you all the happiness you desire, and then I shall be 
happy, because of the love and respect I bear your 
Majesty. It is a cause of great joy to me, since it gives 
me the hope of seeing you, which is most passionately 
desired by your very humble servant." 

Unfortunately, only forty-three of Madame's letters to 
her brother have been preserved, though we have a great 
many more from Charles to her, which show the best 
and most natural side of his character ; his affection for 


his sister was great and genuine, and shown unmistakably 
in his letters again and again : " The kindnesse I have for 
you will not permit me to loose this occasion to coniur 
you to continue your kindnesse to a brother that loves you 
more than he can expresse, which truth I hope you are so 
well persuaded of, as I may expect those returnes which I 
shall strive to deserve. Deare sister, be kinde to me, and 
be confident that I am intirely yours, C. R. For my 
Deare Sister, the Princesse Henriette." 

In October, 1660, the Queen-Mother and the Princess 
Henrietta visited England, coming very quietly, Lambeth- 
way, on 2 November. "The Queen a very little plain old 
woman, and nothing more in her presence in any respect, 
or garb, than any ordinary woman. The Princess of 
Orange I had often seen before. The Princess Henrietta 
is very pretty, but much below my expectation ; and her 
dressing of herself with her hair frized short up to her 
ears, did make her seem so much the less to me." The 
King writes in December across the Council-Table to 
Clarendon : " I would willingly make a visite to my sister 
at Tunbridge for a night or two at farthest, when do you 
thinke I can best spare that time ? " C. : " I know no 
reason why you may not for such a tyme (two nights) go 
the next weeke, about Wensday, or Thursday, and 
returne tyme enough for the adiournement ; which yett 
ought to be the weeke followinge. I suppose you will goe 
with a light trayne." K. : " I intend to take nothing but 
my night-bag." C. : " God ? yes, you will not go without 
40 or 50 horse ? " K. : " I counte that parte of my night- 

After Henrietta Anne became Duchess of Orleans, in 
1660, Charles transacted all his most important business 
with Louis through her, 1 and in December, 1661, we find 

1 Cf. Colbert de Croissy to De Lionne, 14 February, 1669. "The King 
often says, that the only woman who really has a hold on him, is his sister, the 
Duchess of Orleans. If handsome gifts are lavished on Madame Castlemaine, 
his Majesty may think that, in spite of his assertions to the contrary, we fancy 




him writing letters on the subject of ships striking their 
colours to English vessels. The marine privileges of 
England, Charles defended with all the ardour of a sea- 
king, whose heart was more set on the wide waters than 
on the land. " I receaved yours of the 2/th so late this 
night, and the post being ready to goe, that I have only 
time to tell you that I extreamly wonder at that which you 
writ to me of, for certainly never any ships refused to 
strike their pavilion when they met any ships belonging 
to the Crowne of England. This is a right so well known, 
and never disputed by any Kings before, that, if I should 
have it questioned now, I must conclude it to be a querelle 
tTAllemand. I hope what you say to me is only your 
feares, for I will never beleeve that anybody who desires 
my friendship will expect that which was never so much 
as thought of before, therefore all I shall say to you is, 
that my ships must do their dutyes, lett what will come of 
it ! And I should be very unworthy if I quit a right and 
goe lower than ever any of my predecessors did, which is 
all I have to say, only that I am very glad to finde you 
are so well recovered, and be assured, my dearest sister, 
that I am intierly yours, C. R." The King's interest in 
ships has already been commented upon and illustrated, 
and after the Restoration this interest still continues. 
" He takes peculiar pleasure in experiments relating to 
navigation, of which he has a very accurate knowledge ; 
and pays great attention to finding out what sorts of wood 
require least depth of water to float them, and what shapes 
are best adapted for cutting the water, and for making 
good sailers." The diaries of Evelyn, Pepys, and others, 
constantly record the King's visits to the Fleet, and his 
harbours, his yachting, and the like: for twenty leagues 
by sea were more pleasing to him than two by land. His 
appetite was better on the water, it would seem, for he 

that she rules him, and take it in bad part. I should therefore advise giving 
her only such trifling tokens as a pair of French gloves, ribands, a Parisian 
undress gown, or some little object of finery." 


took his meals aboard as often as possible ; and he even 
had a vessel moored by Whitehall stairs, whereon to sup 
and dance at pleasure. 

In September, 1665, Charles visited Dorset, going from 
Salisbury, whence he writes on the pth to Madame : " I 
am goeing to make a little turne into dorset sheere for 8 or 
9 dayes to passe away the time till I go to Oxford, 
beleeving that this place was the cause of my indisposition. 
. . . ." The King and the Duke of Monmouth visited Poole 
and the expenses of the visit were borne by Peter Hall, 
the Mayor, who " had the singular honour to attend his 
Majesty at dinner. After dinner it pleased his Majesty to 
take collector William Strutts' boat to Brownsea (steered 
by the said collector, and rowed by six masters of the 
ships), where His Majesty took an excellent view of the 
said island to his great contentment." It was on this 
Dorsetshire visit, too, that the King was entertained at 
Wimborne St. Giles by Lord Ashley, and had a debauch in 
the cellar, where he knighted one Edward Hooper for his 
pleasantries ; "in the event the whole company were com- 
pletely drunk ; his Majesty paid his obeisance to the centre 
cask, to perpetuate which act a crown was inserted in the 
middle of the cellar-arch." Perhaps it was here that 
Ashley made the retort to Charles' remark " God's-fish, I 
believe thou art the wickedest dog in my dominions." 
" Of a subject, sir, I believe I am." 

"Towards the latter end of Summer [1681], the King, 
as he did often, diverted himself by going down the river 
in his yacht, attended by the rest ; and by the care of his 
officers and board of green cloth, all meals were as well 
served as if at Whitehall, and convenient beds for those 
that had the honour to attend. I was not until very few 
years afterwards of the Court ; but, however, the King was 
pleased to name me for to attend him, and I had place in 
his coach to London, Sir Ph. Howard, Captain of the Life 
Guard in Waiting, not being permitted, by reason he was 
not a Peer or Earl's eldest son. The King went in his 


barge to Greenwich, and stepping into his yacht, he told 
Mr. Theodore Rands, the Page of the bedchamber or back- 
stairs in waiting, that I was young and lazy, and ordered him 
to get me one of the best beds under him. We sailed . . . 
to the Nore, and so to Chatham ; and it cannot be 
expressed, the satisfaction we had by eating twice a day 
with the King, who was all mirth, and of the most pleasing 
conversation, and if we played at any game, he would 
come and sit by us." De Comminges gives a woeful 
account of being taken a voyage by the King, of his sub- 
sequent illness, and of being mercilessly roused at six the 
next morning for another expedition with his Majesty. 
The Queen-Mother always had ill-fortune at sea, so that 
" Mam's luck " became a jest between Charles and Madame : 
" Whitehall, 22 March, 1669 . . . [of a messenger drowned 
in the Channel] : I heare Mam sent me a present by 
him which, I beleeve, brought him the ill lucke, so she 
ought, in conscience, to be at the charges of praying for 
his soule, for 'tis her fortune has made the man mis- 
carry. ..." 

Like most sailors, the King loved music, and encour- 
aged vocal and instrumental artistes of both sexes to visit, 
and reside in, England. " Some whisper the King should 
be a Teutonicus and lover of chymistry. Mr. Br[ereton] 
assures me his Majesty is an extraordinary lover of musick, 
and intends to be entertained with it every dinner time, 
to w ch end, a place for his musicians shall be railed in in 
the presence chamber." " He could not bear any music to 
which he could not keep time, and that he constantly did 
to all that was presented to him, and for the most part 
heard it standing." " Once he had a fancy for a comparison 
to hear the singers of the several nations, Germans, Spanish, 
Italians, French, and English, perform upon the stage in 
Whitehall. The English brought up the rear, under great 
disadvantage, with ' I pass all my time in a shady old 
grove,' etc., for the King chose that song as the best, 
others were not of his opinion." 


Madame, having arranged the Secret Treaty of Dover, 
returned to France ; Charles gave her 6000 pistoles as 
journey-money, and 2000 gold crowns to build a memorial 
chapel to their mother, and a fine present of jewels. The 
King and Duke of York sailed some way back with 
Madame, Charles thrice embracing her, while she wept 
bitterly. Shortly after her return, Madame died suddenly, 
and as was generally suspected at the time, by poison. 
Charles on hearing the news, wept passionately, cursing 
Monsieur's name ; but later said to the messenger, Sir 
Thomas Armstrong, "Monsieur is a villain. But, Sir 
Thomas, I beg of you, not a word of this to the others." 
The King wrote in July to the Due d'Elboeuf : " I cannot 
help thanking you very warmly for the sorrow which you 
express at my sister's death, knowing, as I do, how much 
she esteemed you. But, to say the truth, my grief for her 
is so great that I dare not allow myself to dwell upon it, 
and try as far as possible to think of other things." So 
Charles was deprived of the last woman whom he sincerely 
loved, and the only one who had ever been capable of 
exercising more than a superficial or temporary influence 
over him. Of the lady who tried to take Madame's place, 
we shall speak later. 

Embassies in Charles' reign attracted far more attention 
than they do now, and the ceremonies at the entrance of 
ambassadors into London were complicated and various, 
and the letters of French ambassadors to Louis XIV, or 
his ministers, are full of minute questions of etiquette and 
precedence, especially about the time of the fray between 
the French and Spanish ambassadors' retinues in the street, 
on 30 September, 1661. But the embassies which excited 
most spectacular interest were those of the Muscovites in 
1662, and of the Moors in 1682. Before the arrival of the 
Muscovites there was some excitement at Court, especially 
among the ladies, as to the presents they would bring, and 
perhaps Lady Castlemaine is hinted at in the following 
Council-Note: C.: "You know you do now every day 


expecte the Muscovite Ambassadors, who bringes with 
them severall valewable toyes as a present to you. Now 
ther goes no extraordinary witt, to make this discovery, 
and to begg this present before it comes. I pray remember 
the entertayninge these Ambassadors will be chargeable 
to you, and therfore if this suite be made to you, as sure it 
will be, I pray say you are ingaged, and to keepe it your- 
selfe, that what is to bee sold, may discharge the esxpenses. 
I hope you have [not] given it away already." K. : " You 
neede not have given me this caution, for I love to keepe 
myselfe warme with the furrs, and for the other parte of 
the presents will be as necessary for other things." Evelyn 
" went to London to see y e entrance of y e Russian Ambass 1 ', 
whom his Ma ty> ordered to be received with much state, 
the Emperor not only having been kind to his Ma ty- in his 
distress, but banishing all commerce with our nation during 
y e rebellion. First y e Citty Companies and Train'd Bands 
were in all their stations ; his Majesties Army and Guards 
in greate order. His Excellency came in a very rich 
coach, with some of his chiefe attendants ; many of the 
rest on horseback, clad in their vests after y e eastern 
manner, rich furrs, caps, and carrying the presents, some 
carrying hawkes, furrs, teeth [of sea-horses], bowes, &c. 
It was a very magnificent shew." The audience on the 
29th " was in extraordinary state, his retinue being nume- 
rous, all clad in vests of several colours, with buskins after 
y e Eastern manner ; their caps of furr ; tunicks richly 
embroidered with gold and pearls, made a glorious shew. 
The King being seated under a canopie in y e Banqueting- 
Hall, the Secretary of y e Embassy went before y e 
Ambassador in a grave march holding up his master's 
letters of credence in a crimson taffeta scarfe before his 
forehead. The Ambassador then delivered it with a pro- 
found reverence to the King, who gave it to our Secretary 

1 Cf. Pepys. " But, Lord ! to see the absurd nature of Englishmen ; 
that cannot forbear laughing and jeering at everything that looks strange." 
27 November, 1 662. 


of State ; it was written in a long and lofty style. Then 
came in the presents, borne by 165 of his retinue, consist- 
ing of mantles and other large pieces lined with sable, 
black fox and ermine ; Persian carpets, the ground cloth of 
gold and velvet ; hawks, such as they sayd never came the 
like," " of which his Majesty took two or three upon his 
fist, having a glove on wrought with gold, given him for 
the purpose ; horses said to be Persian ; bowes and 
arrows, etc. These borne by so long a traine rendered it 
very extraordinary. Wind musiq play'd all the while in 
y e galleries above. This finish'd, y e Ambassador was 
convey* d by ye Master of y e Ceremonies to York House, 
where he was treated with a banquet which cost 200, as 
I was assur'd." The Moorish Ambassadors, in January, 
1682, presented the King "with two lions and thirty 
ostriches, at which his Majesty laughed, and said he knew 
nothing more proper to send by way of return than a flock 
of geese." The lions were sent to the Tower, the ostriches 
to St. James's Park. Charles may have been puzzled for 
the moment to know what to do with lions and ostriches, 
but hawks must have pleased him considerably, as hawk- 
ing was a favourite pastime of his, it is said, because of 
the opportunities it gave for talking to the ladies in the 
party. In 1678 Charles caught a severe chill by over- 
heating himself hawking in Buckinghamshire ; and on 
17 March, 1681, he rode hawking across Burford Downs 
to Burford. At that town he was met by the Mayor and 
Corporation, who gave him a rich silver-laced saddle with 
holsters and bridle, worth about fifty guineas. He dined 
with Squire Lenthall at the Priory, attended the races, and 
went thence to Cornbury Park, where he stayed the night 
as Lord Clarendon's guest ; after dinner the next day he 
hawked across country again through Wychwood Forest 
to Woodstock Plain, where his coach met him at Camps- 
field and took him back to Oxford, in time for the opening 
of Parliament. 

The nation and Parliament in 1672 would not be 


persuaded into taking interest in the Third Dutch War, 
especially as we were allied with France, and little was 
effected except a Revolution in Holland, which placed 
William of Orange at the head of affairs, and consequently 
lessened Charles' interest in hostilities, and made peace all 
the easier in 1674. Parliament meanwhile destroyed the 
foundation of the King's French Catholic Plot by the Test 
Act and the Dissolution of the Cabal or Council of 
Ministers formed by the King. Charles wisely abandoned 
Catholicism politically, and took to Anglicanism, his 
brother taking his place as Catholic leader and head of 
the real Popish Plot. Sir Thomas Osborne was made 
Earl of Danby and Prime Minister. He was strongly 
Anglican and hostile to France, and brought about the 
marriage of Mary of York and William of Orange in 1677. 
This marriage, politically so good, was at first distasteful 
t6 the bride and her father ; and when Charles heard that 
James objected and had said that his brother had promised 
he would not get either of the Princesses married without 
their father's consent, he merely ejaculated, " Od's fish, he 
must consent." On 21 October the Duke of York dined 
at Whitehall, and afterwards returned to St. James', took 
Lady Mary into her closet and told her of the proposed 
marriage ; " whereupon her highness wept all that after- 
noon and the following day." On 4 November, at 9 o'clock 
in the evening, the marriage took place in her highness's 
bedchamber. "The King, who gave her away, was very 
pleasant all the while ; for he desir'd that the Bishop of 
London would make haste, lest his sister should be 
delivered of a son, and so the marriage be disappointed ; 
and when the prince endow'd her with all his worldly 
goods, he willed her to put all up in her pockett, for 'twas 
clear gains. At eleven o'clock they went to bed, and his 
Majesty came and drew the curtains, and said to the 
Prince, ' Now, nephew, to your worke. Hey ! St. George 
for England.' On 16 November, the wind being easterly, 
their highnesses were still detain'd at St. James'. This 


day the Court began to whisper the prince's sullennesse, or 
clown ishnesse, that he took no notice of his princesse at 
the play and balle, nor came to see her at St. James', the 
day preceding this desired for their departure. On the 
morning of 19 November about 9 o'clock, the wind being 
westerly, their highnesses, accompanied with his Majesty, 
and his Royal Highness, took barges at Whitehall, with 
several other persons of quality. The Princess wept 
grievously all the morning, required the Duchess of Mon- 
mouth to come often to her sister, 1 to accompany her to 
the chappie the first time she was able to appeere there, 
and to think often on her ; shee left also two letters to be 
delivered to her sister as soon as shee was recovered. The 
Queen observing her highnesse to weep as she took leave 
of her Majesty, would have comforted her with the con- 
sideration of her own condition when shee came into 
England, and had never till then seen the King ; to whom 
her highness presently replied, 'But, madam, you came 
into England ; but I am going out of England.' They all 
dined at Elif [= Erith], and his Majesty and Royal High- 
nesse went with them in sight of Gravesend, and returned 
to Whitehall about 6 o'clock." The Prince's natural 
moroseness was increased towards his bride, as the 
marriage was sprung upon him, without his wish or in- 
tention at that time. On his visit to England in 1670, 
he was apparently more lively, being " a young man of the 
most extraordinary Understanding and Parts, besides his 
quality and birth that makes him shine the better." " He 
has a manly, courageous, wise countenance, resembling his 
mother and the Duke of Gloucester." " At a supper given 
by the Duke of Buckingham, the King made him drink 
very hard : the Prince was naturally averse to it, but being 
once entered, was more frolic and gay than the rest of the 
Company ; and now the mind took him to break the 
windows of the chambers belonging to the maids of 
honour, and he had got into their apartments, had they 
1 Princess Anne. 


not been timely rescued. His mistress, I suppose, did not 
like him the worse for such a notable indication of his 

By the Non-Resisting Bill of 1675, no one was to sit 
in either House till he had sworn to alter nothing in the 
Church and State ; and this was violently opposed by 
Shaftesbury and the Country Party, who tried to force a 
dissolution, since their hopes lay in a new general election. 
Shaftesbury made an illegal motion in Parliament, that it 
was no longer a legal assembly, referring to an obsolete 
statute enjoining annual Parliaments. For this he was 
sent to the Tower, whence he emerged in 1678, to find his 
party in bad case ; they were helped, however, by the rising 
of Titus Gates and the Popish Plot. 

Before passing on to consider the " reign of terror," as 
it has been. called, Marvell's mock King's speech to Parlia- 
ment in 1675 is too good to omit: "April y e 13, 1675: 
My Lords and Gentlemen, I told you at our last meeting 
that the winter was the fittest time for business, and in 
truth I thought so till my Lord Treasurer assured me that 
y e Spring is y e fittest time for salads and subsidies. I hope 
therefore this April will not prove so unnatural as not to 
afford plenty of both ; some of you may perhaps think it 
dangerous to make me too rich, but do not fear it, I promise 
you faithfully (whatever you give) I will take care to want ; 
and yet in that you may rely upon me, I will never break 
it although in other things my word may be thought a 
slender authority. My Lords and Gentlemen, I can bear 
my own straights with patience, but my Lord Treasurer 
doth protest that the revenue as it now stands is too little 
for us both ; one of us must pinch for it, if you do not help 
us out. I must speak freely to you, I am under encum- 
brances ; for besides my whores in service, my reformed 
ones lie hard upon me. I have a pretty good estate, I 
must confess, but, Odd's fish, I have a charge on 't. Here 
is my Lord Treasurer can tell you that all the moneys 
designed for the Summer's Guards must of necessity be 


applied for the next year's cradles and swaddling clothes ; 1 
what then shall we do for ships ? I only hint that to you, 
that's your business, not mine. I know by experience I 
can live without them ; I lived twenty years abroad without 
ships and was never in better health in my life, but how 
well you can live without them you had best try. I leave 
it to yourselves to judge, and therefore only mention it. I 
do not intend to insist upon that. 

"There is another thing which I must press more 
earnestly, which is this ; it seems a good part of my 
revenue will fail in two or three years except you will 
please to continue it, now I have this to say for it, why did 
you give me so much except you resolved to give on as 
fast as I call for it? The nation hates you already for 
giving so much, I will hate you now if you do not give me 
more. So that your interest obliges you to stick to me or 
you will not have a friend left in England. On the other 
hand, if you continue the revenue as desired, I shall be 
able to perform those great things for your religion and 
liberty which I have long had in my thoughts but cannot 
effect it without this establishment, wherefore look to it, if 
you do not make me rich enough to undo it it shall be 
at your doors ; for my part I can with a clear conscience 
say I have done my best and shall leave the rest to my 
successors. But if I may gain your good opinion, the best 
way is to acquaint you what I have done to deserve it out 
of my royal care for your religion and property. For the 
first my late proclamation is the true picture of my mind. 
He that cannot (as in a glass) see my zeal for the Church 
of England doth not deserve any other satisfaction, for I 
declare him wilful, abominable, and not good. You may 
perhaps cry how comes this sudden change ? To that I 
reply in a word, I am a changeling; that I think a full 
answer, but to convince men yet further that I mean as I 
say, there are these arguments 1st. I tell you so and you 

1 Cf. Buckingham's remark, when a suitor styled the King " the father of 
his people," " Of a good many of them." 


know I never break my word. 2nd. My Lord Treasurer 
says so and he never told lies in his life. 3rd. My lord 
Laudersdale will undertake for me, and I should be loth 
by any act of mine to forfeit the credit he has with you. 
If you desire more instances of my zeal, I have them for 
you ; for example, I have converted all my natural sons 
from popery, (and I may say without vanity) it was more 
my work and much more peculiar to me than the getting 
of them. It would do your hearts good to hear how 
prettily little George can read already the Psalter ; they 
are all fine children, God bless 'em, and so like me in their 
understandings. But (as I was saying) I have to please 
you, given a pension to your favourite my Ld. Lauderdale ; 
not so much that I thought he wanted it, as I knew you 
would take it kindly. I have made Carwell a Duchess and 
married her sister to my Lord Pembroke. I have made 
Crewe Bishop of Durham. I have at my brother's request 
sent my Lord Inchiquin to settle the Protestant religion 
at Tangier ; and at the first word of my Lady Portsmouth 
I preferred Prideaux to be Bishop of Chichester. I do 
not know what factious men would have ; but this I am 
sure of, that none of my predecessors ever did anything 
like this to gain the goodwill of their subjects. So much 
for religion. I must now acquaint you that by my Lord 
Treasurer's advice I have made a considerable retrench- 
ment on my expenses in candles and charcoal, and do not 
intend to stick there, but, with your help, to look into the 
like embezelments of my dripping pans and Kitching 
Stuff, of which (by the way) on my conscience neither my 
Lord Treasurer nor my Lord Lauderdale are guilty ; but 
if you should find them dabbling in that business I tell you 
plainly I leave them to you, for I would not have the 
world think I am a man to be cheated. 

" My Lords and Gentlemen, 

" I would have you believe of me as you always 
found me ; and I do solemnly profess that, whatever you 


give me, it shall be managed with the same thrift, trust, 
conduct, and prudence and sincerity, that I have ever 
practised since my happy restoration." 

This speech was printed and strewn about the House 
on the first day of Session, 13 April, 1675 ; and no one 
laughed more over it than Charles. 

NOTE. In the Antiquary for 1910 are interesting articles on the 
Embassies in this reign. 


" That Plot, the nation's curse, 
Bad in itself, but represented worse, 
Raised in extremes, and in extremes decried, 
With oaths affirmed, with dying vows denied, 
Not weighed or winnowed by the multitude, 
But swallowed in the mass, unchewed and crude ; 
Some truth there was, but dash'd and brew'd with lies, 
To please the fools and puzzle all the wise. 
Succeeding time did equal folly call 
Believing nothing, or believing all." 

DRYDEN, Abs. and Ack, 106 sqq. 

Titus Gates Shaftesbury, the Whigs, and the Green Ribbon Club 
Pope-burnings The question of the succession Fall of Danby 
Charles and the plot Temple's Privy Council " King Monmouth " 
Illness of Charles Petitioners and Abhorrers King at Oxford Dis- 
solution of Parliament, fall of Shaftesbury, and Whig plots Charles 
absolute Bruce's account of the King's last illness and death. 

TITUS GATES "was a low Man, of an ill cut, 
very short neck ; and his Visage and Features 
were most particular. His mouth was the 
Center of his Face, and a compass there would sweep his 
Nose, Forehead, and Chin within the Perimeter. Cave 
quos Deus ipse notavit." His manner of speech was a 
peculiar harsh drawl, well represented in " Peveril of the 
Peak." After a thoroughly discreditable life, he now 
came forward with 8 1 charges against the Catholics, 
especially the Jesuits, accusing them of intention to fire 
the city, raise the Irish Catholics, conquer England by the 


help of the Irish and French, kill all Protestants, and 
murder the King. This tale Gates and Teonge brought to 
Court, and also laid before Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey, 
a well-known City magistrate. On Gates' evidence, Cole- 
man, the Duke of York's secretary, was arrested, and 
treasonable papers were found in his possession. This 
strengthened Gates' credit and the general belief in the 
plot, at last so strong that one could have denied Christ 
with less danger than the plot. On the 17 October, 1678, 
Godfrey was found murdered in a ditch near Primrose 
Hill, and the popular indignation and excitement were 
fomented by the Whigs. Dr. Lloyd, afterwards Bishop of 
St Asaph, preached his funeral sermon from the text, 
" Died Abner as a fool dieth ? " While preaching, two 
clergymen supported him in the pulpit, as a kind of 
theatrical hint at possible violence. Before the funeral, 
Godfrey's body lay in state in the streets of London for 
two days, passed by a constant stream of excited citizens. 1 
Shaftesbury and his friends were the first to reorganize 
political opposition, in every direction and for all classes. 
In 1675 was founded the Green Ribbon Club, and by this 
means the people of London were controlled and incited 
in any desired direction by the Whig leaders. 2 "As to 
these tumults about burning the Pope, of which yet I have 
made but a general mention, it is not to be thought they 
could be carried on by a Faction disjointed, and acting 
separately, but rather that they were ceconomised under 
some common Direction, as should prescribe Methods, and 
assign the Actors their Parts. This, in general, I have 

1 The Godfrey affair was mentioned on every public occasion, and in every 
possible way, until the ferment of the plot had died down. He was named in 
Prologues ; his body, borne by a man attired as a Jesuit on a white horse, 
appeared in Pope-burning processions, and even on playing-cards ; while a 
bookseller near Fleetbridge took " Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey's Head " as his 
sign, in 1681. 

* A rival Tory club was formed at Warder within Ludgate, which included 
the Duke of Ormonde, the Recorders and most of the aldermen, and did great 
service, according to Ailesbury. 


mentioned, as depending on the Earl of Shaftesbury, who 
either of himself, or derived from some Cabal superior to 
him, took the Presidentship of the factious Counsels at 
that time. But without penetrating so deep, we had a 
more visible Administration, mediate, as it were, between 
his Lordship, and the greater and lesser vulgar, who were 
to be the immediate Tools. And this was the Club called 
originally the Kings Head Club. The Gentlemen of that 
worthy Society held their Evening Sessions continually at 
the " King's Head " Tavern over against the Inner Temple 
Gate. But upon occasion of the signal of a Green Ribbon, 
agreed to be worn in their Hats in the Days of Street 
Engagements, like the Coats of Arms of valiant knights of 
old, whereby all the Warriors of the Society might be dis- 
tinguished, and not mistake Friends for Enemies, they were 
called also the Green Ribbon Club. Their Seat was in a 
sort of Carfour at Cftancery Lane End, a Centre of Business 
and Company most proper for such Anglers of Fools. The 
House was double balconied in front, as may yet be seen, 
for the Clubsters to issue forth in fresco with Hats and 
no Perruques ; Pipes in their Mouths, merry Faces, and 
diluted Throats, for Vocal Encouragement of the Canaglia 
below, at bonfires, on usual and unusual occasions. They 
admitted all Strangers that were confidingly introduced ; 
for it was a main End of their institution to make Prose- 
lytes, especially of the raw estated Youth newly come to 
Town . . . The Conversation and ordinary Discourse of 
the Club was chiefly upon the Subject of Braveur in defend- 
ing the Cause of Liberty and Property, and what every 
true Protestant and Englishman ought to venture and do, 
rather than be overrun with Popery and Slavery. There 
was much Recommendation of Silk Armour, and the 
Prudence of being provided with it, against the Time that 
Protestants were to be massacred. And accordingly there 
was abundance of those silken Back, Breast, and Potts, 
made and sold, that were pretended to be Pistol-Proof ; in 
which any Man dressed up was as safe as in an House, for 


it was impossible any could go to strike him for laughing : 
so ridiculous was the Figure, as they say, of Hogs in 
Armour. . . . This was Armour of Defence ; but our 
Sparks were not altogether so tame as to carry their 
Provision no farther, for truly they intended to be Assail- 
ants on fair Occasion, and had, for that End, recommended 
to them also a certain Pocket Weapon, which, for its 
Design and Efficacy, had the honour to be called a 
Protestant Flail. It was for Street and Croud-work, and 
the Engine, lurking perdue in a Coat Pocket, might readily 
sally out to Execution ; and so, by clearing a great Hall, 
or Piazza, or so, carry an Election by a choice way of poll- 
ing, called knocking down. The Handle resembled a 
Farrier's Bloodstick, and the Fall was joined to the End 
by a strong nervous Ligature, that, in its swing, fell short 
of the Head and was made of Lignum vitce> or rather, as 
the Poet termed it, Mortis" Lady Shaftesbury carried a 
small pair of pistols in her muff, and persuaded other ladies 
to follow her example ; while many worthy citizens went 
about their business wearing concealed daggers. Burnings 
of effigies of the Pope, and other unpopular persons, carried 
in procession through the street, also kept alive the popular 
excitement, and we hear of special burnings as early as 
1673, when Mary of Modena was coming over to Eng- 
land. The 5 November and Queen Elizabeth's birthday 
were the special Pope-burning days. The Burning in 
Nov. 1677 had some original qualities: "Last Saturday 
y e coronation of Q" Elizabeth wase solemnised in y e city 
w th mighty bonefires & y e burning of a most costly pope, 
caryed by four persons in divers habits, y e effigies of 
two divels whispering in his eares, his belly filled full of 
live cats who squawled most hideously as soone as they felt 
the fire ; the common saying all y e while it wase y e 
language of y e Pope and y e Divil in a dialogue betwixt 
them. A tierce of claret wase set out before ye Temple- 
gate for ye common people. Mr. Langhorne sath he is 
very confident ye pageantry cost 40 //." 


Shaftesbury, leader of the Whigs, 1 was by far the 
ablest man in England at this time, except the King, and 
he nearly overthrew him ; but Charles still undercut him. 
He began political life as an officer in the King's army. 
He went over to the Rebels, eventually sat in the Bare- 
bones Parliament, was presented in the Privy Council list 
by Monk to the King, and for some time remained on the 
Court side, and was a member of the 1670 Cabal, when he 
intrigued in the cause of toleration. In 1673 he fell out 
of office as Lord Chancellor, and became head of the 
Opposition. Clever schemer and brilliant debater as 
Shaftesbury was, he was little more than primus inter 
pares, for the House of Lords at this time was at once 
more clever and more energetic than it has perhaps ever 
been since. Charles himself often entered incognito and 
stood by the fire, talking and laughing. Here he watched 
the progress of the great Exclusion debate, in November, 
1680, heard the Duke of Monmouth vote for the Bill, 
and murmured, " the kiss of Judas " ; and here he heard 
Halifax ironically doubt Danby's elevation to a marquisate, 
saying that it was not to be borne, if true ; on which Charles 
said, " My God, how I am ill-treated ; and I must bear it, 
and keep silence." Apparently, the first time Charles 
appeared in this way in the Upper House was in April, 
1670. "The King, about 10 o'clock, took boat, with 
Lauderdale only and two ordinary attendants, and rowed 
a while as towards the bridge, and soon turned back to 
the Parliament Stairs and so went up into the House of 
Lords, and took his seat. Almost all of them were 
amazed, but all seemed so ; and the Duke of York 
especially was very much surprised. Being sat, he told 

1 The Opposition were successively called True Blues, Birmingham Pro- 
testants, Petitioners, and Whigs ; which last name was originally applied to 
the Scotch Covenanters, and has lived as a name for the Opposition. The 
names applied to the Loyalists were Yorkists, Tantivys, Irish, Wild Irish, 
Bog-Trotters, and Tories, the last originally being Catholic bandits who lay 
in wait for Englishmen among the Irish bogs. 



them that it was a privilege he claimed from his ancestors 
to be present at their deliberations. That therefore they 
should not for his coming, interrupt their debates, but 
proceed, and be covered. They did so. ... The King 
has ever since continued his session among them and says 
it is better than going to a play." 

The Whigs desired to exclude James from succession 
to the throne, so put forward the Duke of Monmouth, 
more or less openly, in his place ; the alternative to this 
scheme was the King's divorce and re-marriage with a 
Protestant wife. So in November, 1678, Gates swore to 
personal knowledge of a plot in which the Queen and Sir 
George Wakeman, her physician, had combined to kill the 
King. Once before Buckingham had contrived to suggest 
to Charles that the Queen should be kidnapped and 
shipped to Virginia, which proposal Charles rejected with 
horror, though Burnet hints that he listened more favour- 
ably to a scheme to persuade her to enter a nunnery, 
rendered abortive by the Queen's own decided refusal. 
Now again Charles defended his wife, and caused Gates 
to be imprisoned and his papers to be seized, though he 
was released to please the Commons. The imprisonment 
really made clear to him the limits of his license to accuse 
and slay, and was probably intended only for that purpose. 
It is about this time that "the Queen is now a mistress, 
the passion her spouse has for her is so great." " They 
think I have a mind to a new wife ; but for all that I will 
not see an innocent woman abused." "She is a weak 
woman, and hath some disagreeable humours ; but was 
not capable of a wicked thing : and considering my own 
faultiness to her in some things, I think it a horrid shame 
to abandon her." The Queen came to Newmarket in 
1680, to be with the King, " pretending she can be 
nowhere safe but where the King is present to protect 

Parliament was now afraid of the standing army, and 
insisted on its disbandment ; and Danby fell, owing to the 




discovery of the reason why the troops raised in March, 

1678, at his instigation, against Louis, had never been 
used : he had, unwillingly and under the King's orders, 
sold the force's inactivity to Louis for ^"300,000. Louis 
now betrayed Danby to the House of Commons, through 
Montague, the English representative at Paris. Parlia- 
ment voted Danby's imprisonment, and Charles dissolved 
them in January, 1679. 

Meanwhile the trials for the Plot went on, and endured 
some time longer. Coleman was convicted and executed, 
and many others, mostly innocent men. At last, in July, 

1679, Wakeman was acquitted, and Chief Justice Scroggs 
roundly abused Titus Gates: "You have taken a great 
confidence, I know not by what authority, to say anything 
of anybody." * The Catholics now plucked up heart, and 
tried to produce a Presbyterian conspiracy, called the 
Meal-tub Plot (from the place where the incriminating 
papers were found), in October, 1679, but its exposure 
renewed belief in their guilt. Lord Strafford and Arch- 
bishop Plunket were the last, and innocent, victims of the 
Plot Terror, in December, 1680, and the summer of 1681, 
respectively. The general attitude towards the plot is 
difficult to realize and justify nowadays. But the dangers 
which it suggested were more aetually possible, and far 
more apparently possible, then than now. All witnesses 
and judges were infected either by terror or strong political 
bias ; even Halifax and the King saw and said that though 
the plot was probably not true, " it must be handled as if 
it were so . . . ; the notoriety of the fact is evidence 
enough of the plot." The King's attitude throughout 
was one of contempt and disbelief. When Kirkby first 
approached him in the Park on 13 August, 1678, and 

1 A great rebuff for Gates, who was the most powerful subject in the realm 
for some time, and one of the most popular, in a sense. Cf. the story of the 
lady in the Spectator^ who had his picture on her fan, her handkerchief, and 
everywhere else possible, which, even if not true to fact, is certainly true 
to the spirit of the time. 


slipped a note into his hand, asking that he might speak 
to him, the King read it and asked what he meant. " Sire, 
your enemies have a design against your life. Keep 
within the company, for I know not but you may be in 
danger in this very walk." " How may that be ? " " By 
being shot at," said Kirkby, and asked that he might say 
more in a private place. Charles told him to wait in his 
closet, and quietly finished his walk. On the 20 October, 
1678, he told Reresby that "he took it to be some artifice, 
and that he did not believe one word of the whole story." 
Compare the following story. The King, walking with 
Danby and Lord Cromarty up Constitution Hill into 
Hyde Park, met the Duke of York's coach : the Duke said 
he was greatly surprised to find His Majesty in that place, 
with so small an attendance, and that he thought His 
Majesty exposed himself to some danger. " No kind of 
danger, James ; for I am sure no man in England will take 
away my life to make you King." On 21 November he said 
of Bedloe, " he was a rogue, and that he was satisfied he 
had given some false evidence, concerning the death of Sir 
Edmund Berry Godfrey." Charles himself examined Gates 
on 29 September, 1678, at the Privy Council, and concluded 
by declaring him a "most lying knave." In November, 
1680, the King, at the Duchess of Portsmouth's, was "very 
open as to the witnesses who were making out the Popish 
Plot, and proved to a demonstration, that many articles they 
had given in evidence were not only improbable, but quite 
impossible." " To my knowledge the King believed not 
one word of what was called Gates' plot. It may be asked, 
why did he sign dead warrants thereupon ? The nation, 
by wicked artifices of a discarded minister, was then half 
distracted, and God knows what would have been the 
consequences of denying what they called for then 
Justice ; and the King used to say, ' Let the blood lie on 
them that condemned them, for God knows I sign with 
tears in my eyes.' " As a question of abstract right and 
wrong, the King's behaviour was very culpable ; but it is a 


hard thing to expect any King to lose his throne and 
perhaps his life on a question of abstract principle, when 
expediency points in the other direction ; for he also said 
that blood was the quickest way of stilling the whole 
tumult. Dr. Airy has spoken of the King's having de- 
bauched the judgments of such persons as spoke for him 
at the time. Halifax's judgment agreed with the King's, 
and he was the last person to be " debauched " in any way 
by Charles ; and Ailesbury was writing in 1/40, when he 
had surely had time for reflection. Dr. Airy's indictment 
that the King was the original cause of the whole affair, is, 
however, patently true , he should never have suffered his 
affairs to get into such a state ; but, given that state, it is 
asking a little too much of human nature to expect him 
to have acted otherwise. 

The Whigs triumphed at the elections in February, 
1679, and Royalist feeling in the House and country was 
at a low ebb. Luckily the Whig leaders quarrelled, 
instead of pressing on united, and therefore, in all likeli- 
hood, irresistible. Shaftesbury wished to exclude James 
altogether, Halifax to limit his powers as King. In the 
first Whig Parliament, March, 1679, and in May, the First 
Exclusion Bill was introduced. In April July of this 
year Sir William Temple suggested a new Privy Council 
to the King, to be composed of thirty lords, taken from 
Whigs and Tories alike, and Shaftesbury was made Presi- 
dent of the Council. Charles accepted his new advisers 
purely in a humorous spirit, and decided without them : 
"God'sfish, they have put a set of men about me, but 
they shall know nothing, and this keep to yourself." " I 
tell them nothing, and it will not be long before we shall 
part." And, indeed, soon after they all desired leave to 
retire from the Board, alleging that attending the Council 
was prejudicial to their affairs. The King's answer to 
them all was the same : " With all my heart." In July, 
Charles dissolved Parliament ; in its short life it had 
passed the Habeas Corpus Act, owing to the tellers 


counting one very fat lord as ten, and failing to correct this. 
The dissolution, of course, prevented the passing of the 
First Exclusion Bill. Charles had prorogued Parliament 
on 26 May, and remarked in the Queen's room in the 
evening : " I have just freed myself from the burden which 
weighed upon me. How they have deceived themselves if 
they imagined that want of money would force me to 
extremities. I shall find means to pay the fleet and 
manage economically; it will be difficult and uncomfort- 
able for me, but I will submit to anything rather than 
endure the gentlemen of the Commons any longer." 

In the summer of 1679 Monmouth came forward as 
the nominal head, but actual tool, of the Whigs. He was 
the reputed son and favourite of the King, though most 
probably the child of Colonel Robert Sidney (whom he 
resembled even to the wart on his face) and Lucy Walters, 
who left Sidney for the King in 1649. Though circum- 
stances of time and resemblance were against the idea, the 
King treated the Duke as his own son, and always showed 
him especial favour, insomuch that James, who disliked 
him, used to call him " nephew," because he knew it so 
pleased the King. Monmouth was handsome, brave, and 
good-natured, but weak and inclined to many vices, and 
proved as wax in the hands of " the false Achithophel." 
He married the Countess of Buccleuch, and Charles writes 
to Madame on 20 April, 1663: "You must not by this 
post, expect a long letter from me, this being Jameses 
marriage day, and I am goeing to sup with them, where 
we intend to dance and see them abed together, but the 
ceremony shall stop there." In 1668 Monmouth visited 
the French Court, taking the following letter from the 
King to Madame: " Whithall, 14 Jan., 1668, I beleeve you 
may easily guesse that I am something concerned for this 
bearer, James \Duke of Monmoutk added in red ink and a 
different hand], and therefore I put him into your handes 
to be directed by you in all thinges, and pray use that 
authority over him as you ought to do in kindness to me 


which is all I shall say to you at this time, for I thinke he 
will not be so soone at Paris as the poste, and I have no 
more to trouble you with now, only to assure you that I 
am intierly yours, C. R." . . . " A thousand thankes for the 
care you take before-hand of James, ... I do confesse I 
love him very well." ... "I cannot thanke you eno' for 
your goodness and kindnesse to James." ... "if he does 
faile in writting, I feare he takes a little after his father." 
..." He intends to put on a perriwig againe, when he 
comes to Paris, but I beleeve you will thinke him better 
farr, as I do, with his short haire. ..." In 1670, Charles 
grants "a gracious pardon unto our dear sonne, James, 
Duke of Monmouth, of all Murders, Homicides and 
Felonyes, whatsoever at any time before y e 28th day of 
Feb^ last past, committed either by himselfe alone or 
together w th any other person or persons." In 1674, 
Charles was pressed by Shaftesbury to declare Monmouth 
legitimate, but said that, " As well as he lov'd him, he had 
rather see him hang'd at Tyburn then own him as his 
legitimat Son." 

Monmouth's spelling is certainly worse than that of 
most courtiers of the time, perhaps an example of his 
weak intellect. The following letter is dated from "the 
Camp nigh Renalls, the 29 June " [1679], when the Duke 
had been sent into Scotland to quell the Covenanters' 
rising, which he had already done, on the 22nd, at Both- 
well Brig. " Mr. Ross has toled mee how mutch I am 
obliged to you for your kindness, w I am very sensible 
of and shall try to sho it upon all occasions. I will asur 
you the effects of your kindness will make me live within 
compas, for as long as I receave my money beforehand, I 
shall do it w th a greaddell of easse. I wont trouble you 
w th news becaus Mr. Aston will tell you all ther is. I will 
try to instrokt him all as well as I can. I wont trouble 
you no longer, only I doe asur you ther is nobody mor 
your humble servant than I am. Monmouth." The Duke 
returned home from Scotland "possessing the love and 


commanding the armies of the two kingdoms." James of 
York was in Brussels, for Charles had sent him thither in 
March, 1679, owing to his unpopularity during the Plot. 
Charles' letter to his brother on the subject is character- 
istic : " Dear Brother, I have already given you my reasons 
at large why I would have you absent yourself for some 
time beyond the seas. As I am truly sorry for the occa- 
sion, so you may be sure that I shall never desire it longer 
than it will be absolutely necessary both for your good and 
my security. In the meantime, I think it proper to give 
it you under my hand that I expect this compliance from 
you, desiring it may be as soon as conveniently you can. 
You may easily believe with what trouble I write this to 
you, there being nothing I am more sensible of than the 
constant kindness you have had for me, and I hope you 
will be so just as to be as well assured that no absence nor 
anything else can ever change me from being truly and 
kindly yours, C. R." 

Just at this moment Charles fell ill, August, 1679 : 
" Last Wednesday his Ma y play'd at tenis, and after y' he 
had been in bed and rubb'd, he walked a long time by ye 
water side. Ye next day, he found himselfe indispos'd, 
and on Fryday morning he had a very great dullness and 
numness in all his limbs, especially his leggs and shoulders, 
and his head much indisposed and heavy. On Saturday 
he took some manna w ch purged him 16 or 17 times. On 
Sunday he wase better, but on Monday morning he had 
a very ill fitt. Severall physicians sent for from hence. 
He wase blouded 12 oz., after w ch he vomited, w ch did 
affright ye physitians, and purg'd. But last night he 
rested very well, and wase well this morning." ... "A 
Tuesday I was at Windsor. I saw ye King, who was 
then very weake. He has a Tertian ague, and has had 
four fits ; the last was more gentle, yet held him from 9 on 
Tuesday night till noone yesterday." ... "I writ to you 
as soon as my little brains were settled by hearing the 
King was much mended, and thanks be to God, does yet 


continue ; but I have the less comfort in it because his fits 
were put off like mine, by the Jesuit's powder, 1 and it was 
as necessary to give it to him as to me, for he was with 
two fits, weaker than I was with more. If all the trouble 
people have been in was out of kindness to him, never any 
king had so much, for it was to a distraction. I believe 
there is scarce anybody beyond Temple Bar that believes 
his distemper proceeded from anything but poison, and 
though as little like it as if he had fallen from a horse, 2 
everybody is very desirous to have him come to town as 
soon as he is able ; as yet he does not appear much 
inclined to it ; yet one of our friends, he that is constantly 
there, you do not doubt, is very well in favour of it, and 
the other, who is much there, is so too. ... If the Privy 
Councillors had not used their authority to keep the 
crowds out of the King's Chamber, he had been smothered ; 
the bedchambermen could do nothing to hinder it." 8 
When the King was first taken ill, all the doctors were 
away, and the King sent for Dr. Short, who happened to 
be in Windsor ; some one remarked that he was a papist 
and therefore unfit to attend the King, to which Charles 
replied, hinting that Monmouth and his party would have 
him die. By 29 August the King had " exchanged water- 

1 Or " Jesuit's bark " = cinchona, quinkinna (Burnet, ij. 242) or quinine. 

* Poison was always suspected at that time, if the cause or nature of an 
illness was doubtful : cf. deaths of Madame, Lady Denham, and Charles II. 

* Dowager Lady Sunderland to Henry Sidney, 2 September, 1679 (Diary i.), 
and cf. Lady N.-N. Cavalier and Puritan^ p. 60. News-letter of 1678 (?) 
to Sir Richard Newdegate, Jr. : " His Ma'- T> having been Hawking in Bucks., 
returned to Windsor and walking part of the way in his boots, it put him in a 
great heat, so that at his coming to Windsor, he found himself afflicted with 
a pain at his stomach, which with some cold he had that day taken, took away 
his stomach, so that he eat not Supper, and was that Night very restless." 
[King refused bleeding next day, but took a dose of manna and became a 
little better. Then his fever returned and three doctors were sent for, who 
again prescribed bleeding, which the King took.] "At 8 o'clock his Maj. 
vomited 2 or 3 times, but was very cheerful. . . . There's a great resort of 
Lords and great persons, but the Lord Chamberlain is ordered to admit but 
few, the K.'s Bedchamber being so little that the Company is offensive to 


gruels and potions for mutton and partridges, on which he 
feeds frequently and heartily." The Triumvirate, Essex, 
Halifax, and Sunderland, sent for James, who came over 
in disguise, post-haste, to his brother's death-bed ; but was 
greeted on arrival by a cheerful and apparently surprised 
convalescent. On recovering, the King sent Mon mouth 
to Holland and James to Scotland. 

The second Whig Parliament was almost immediately 
prorogued from October, 1679 October, 1680. In Novem- 
ber, 1679, the Pope-burning processions became more 
violent than ever, with the effigy of Godfrey, and the 
catch-verse : 

" Your Popish Plot and Smithfield threat 

We do not fear at all ; 
For see beneath Queen Bess's feet, 
You fall, you fall, you fall." 

In November, 1679, Monmouth returned without leave, 
and London went mad with delight at the " Protestant 
Duke's " arrival : " You must needs hear of the abominable 
disorders amongst us, calling all the women whores, and 
the men rogues in the playhouses, throwing candles and 
links, calling my Lord Sunderland traitor, but in good 
company ; the Duke, rascal ; and all ended in ' God bless 
his Highness, the Duke of Monmouth, we will be for him 
against all the world.' I am told they may be fined a 
great deal if they are prosecuted." ..." The King hath a 
New mistress, Lord R[ane]s daughter. She brought the 
Duke of Monmouth to the King ; he resolves to take up 
arms in case the King dies, for he will conclude him 
murdered." In 1680, Monmouth went on a progress 
through the West, and struck the baton sinister from his 
arms, while his party spread the story of the Black Box 
containing the marriage contract between Charles and 
Lucy Walters. In May, 1680, the King fell ill again : 
" We have been all sadly alarmed with the King's being 
sick, but he is now very well again, and I hope will 


continue so, if he can be kept from fishing when a dog 
would not be abroad." 

From December, 1679, onwards the Whigs sent up 
constant petitions to the King to call Parliament together, 
while from February, 1680, the Tories sent up counter- 
addresses in abhorrence of the petitions, whence the 
respective parties were for the time called Petitioners 
and Abhorrers. The King, though not in his usual spirits, 
had ready remarks to various petitioners ; to the Wiltshire 
gentlemen : " You would not take it well I should meddle 
with your affairs, and I desire you will not meddle with 
mine ; " to the Berkshire squires : " We will argue the 
matter over a cup of ale when we meet at Windsor, though 
I wonder my neighbours should meddle with my busi- 
ness ; " one who presented him the petition of Taunton, 
being asked how he dared to do so, gave the King a 
rebuff: "Sire, my name is Dare." The general feeling 
of the Commons at the time is easily traceable in the 
following story: "When [the petition] for Wiltshire was 
on foot, they came to Michael Wise, the Organist of 
Salisbury Cathedral, who had a great deal of wit and 
good humour; and presenting the petition to him for to 
sign, he answered : ' I understand nothing but music, and 
if you please I will set a tune to it, and that is all I can 
do for your service.' And the Parliament sitting some 
months after, it was with difficulty that this man got off 
well, in so fiery a temper the House of Commons was in 

Owing to the violence and direct attacks of the Whigs, 
the Duchess of Portsmouth, and Lords Sunderland and 
Essex deserted to that party, while Halifax remained on 
the King's side, and in November, 1680, after the meeting 
of Parliament, spoke almost alone in the Lords against 
the Exclusion Bill, which had past the Commons ; its 
rejection caused fresh fury among the Opposition, and the 
execution of Stafford was a sop to them and to the people. 
The second Whig Parliament was dissolved in January, 


1 68 1, and in March the third Whig Parliament met at 
Oxford, whither the King had astutely summoned them, 
away from the Whig stronghold of London, to one of his 
own loyal cities. The Whig members rode into Oxford 
with troops of armed supporters, gay with blue satin 
ribbons and streamers in their hats, with the legend " No 
Popery, No Slavery ; " while the Tory squires accompanied 
the King, crying at his coach window, " The devil hang up 
all Roundheads," while the undergraduates cheered and 
made bonfires for " Charles the Great," or pressed to the 
city gates with the townsfolk, to meet the incoming Whigs, 
with cries of " Make ready ! stand back ! Knock 'em 
down ! Knock 'em down ! " all wearing red ribbons. The 
King and his Life Guards lodged in Christ Church, the 
Whig Lords in Balliol for an exorbitant rent. Colledge, 
the " Protestant joiner," came down to Oxford, and helped 
to distribute libellous pictures and rimes. "There was 
one picture graven making the King with a raree-show 
box at his back, which was a type of the Parliament, and 
this raree-show and his box was to be pulled into the ditch 
and be drowned. Another had the Church of England, 
with several men booted and spurred riding in the rigging, 
which were the Tories and Tantivies riding the Church to 
Rome. And the Duke was made half Irishman and half 
Devil, the latter part setting fire to London ; and apt 
songs were fitted to these exquisite pieces of wit which 
this sanctified crue used over their cups ... to troll in 
scurvy tunes, and all come in at the chorus." The King 
opened session on the 2ist by a fine speech, which con- 
tained the remark : " I, who will never use arbitrary 
government myself, am resolved not to suffer it in others." 
He offered to banish James and make William or Mary 
regent ; but the Commons would have nothing but Ex- 
clusion and Monmouth, relying on the King's apparent 
lack of money, which, they thought, would force him to 
yield. On the 24th, in the Upper House, Shaftesbury 
talked with the King, trying to make him declare 


Monmouth his successor ; the King replied : " My Lord, let 
there be no self-delusion. I will never yield, and will not 
let myself be intimidated. ... I have law and reason on 
my side. Good men will be with me. There is the Church, 
which will remain united with me. Believe me, my Lord, 
we shall not be divided." Charles was strong in three 
years' supply of money from Louis, and acted accordingly. 
The Commons passed the Exclusion Bill again, sitting in 
the Convocation House ; the King meanwhile took great 
personal interest in making the Sheldonian Theatre com- 
fortable for their reception. On the 28th he came to the 
Lords, sitting in the Geometry School, in a sedan chair, 
closely followed by another with drawn curtains. The 
Commons were summoned to the Lords, and struggled in, 
and stood, a close-packed crowd, to see Charles in the 
state robes (the contents of the second chair) and to hear 
him say : " My Lords and Gentlemen, that all the world 
may see to what a point we are come, that we are not like 
to have a good end, when the divisions at the beginning 
are such, therefore, my Lord Chancellor, do as I have 
commanded you." Finch then declared Parliament dis- 
solved, and Charles left the throne. The Whigs filed out 
with " dreadful faces and loud sighs," as Bruce says ; and 
when he joined the King in the unrobing room, "with a 
most pleasing and cheerful countenance he touched me on 
the shoulder ; with this expression, ' I am now a better 
man than you were a quarter of an hour since ; you had 
better have one king than five hundred.' " Charles had 
sent his coach on the night before on the road to Windsor, 
and now rode off to join it, while the Whigs fled, fearing 
the King would send his guards " to pull them out by the 
ears ; and in spite of all Shaftesbury's efforts to rally his 
men, the whole party fled madly to their homes, as from a 
city besieged, the price of horses doubling in a quarter of 
an hour. The Tory party now rallied, and became so 
enthusiastic and adulatory, that it was said that while 
the Whig Petitioners spat in the King's face, the Tory 


addressers spat in his mouth. James' popularity rivalled 
that of his brother. Under the ministry of Laurence 
Hyde, Earl of Rochester, the Whigs and Dissenters came 
in for persecution and a life of terror ; and Shaftesbury 
was impeached of high treason. On 17 November, 1681, 
appeared Dryden's "Absalom and Achithophel," summing 
up the political situation of the past few years. 

When the Whig jury in London threw out the Bill 
against Shaftesbury, on 24 November, the city went mad 
with joy, and a medal was struck, bearing the sun shining 
through a cloud, with the legend " Letamur." Dryden was 
bidden write a poem on the subject by Charles himself, 
when walking with him in the Park : " If I was a poet, and 
I think I am poor enough to be one, I would write a poem 
on such a subject in the following manner." Dryden took 
the hint and received one hundred broad pieces for the 
poem of the " Medal.'* This piece called forth Shadwell's 
savage and scurrilous counterblast, " The Medal of John 
Bayes," which Dryden answered by " MacFlecknoe " and 
the portrait of Og in the Second Part of " Absalom and 

The Whig leaders, alarmed at the Tory re-action, 
hatched the Insurrection and Assassination Plots, in 
August-October, 1682, the nature of which conspiracies 
is sufficiently shown by their names ; their power in the 
country, however, was almost nothing, their own counsels 
were wrangling and confused, being made up of such 
different people as Shaftesbury, Monmouth, Essex, Russell, 
Sidney, Hampden, Howard of Escrick, and the old Crom- 
wellians Rumbold and Rumsey. Shaftesbury fled to 
Holland in November, 1682, and died there in January, 
1683. Dryden's last mention of him is the indecent abuse 
in "Albion and Albanius" (1685), where Sedition appears 
as "a man with a long, lean, pale face, with fiend's wings, 
and snakes twisted round his body, accompanied by several 
fanatical rebellious heads, who suck poison from him, 
which runs out of a tap in his side." Yet he allows 


Shaftesbury to have been an upright and incorrupt judge : 
and modern criticism has decided that he was also some- 
thing of a patriot. 

The rest of the Whig chiefs decided on attempting to 
kill the King, at Rye House, as he returned from New- 
market, which he always did on a Saturday ; " The Rye 
House is just beyond Hoddesden, where the last relay of 
horses and guards attended the King's arrival, and his 
Majesty loving to go fast on the road, the guards at the 
latter end of a stage, trained behind and kept not in a 
body " ; but the King did not come on the day appointed, 
the plot was betrayed in June, 1683, to the King. Russell 
and Sidney were convicted and executed, Essex cut his 
throat in the Tower, and Monmouth was secretly pardoned- 
Will Legge entreated the King to pardon Russell, alleging 
many good reasons. Charles replied : " All that is true ; 
but it is as true, that if I do not take his life, he will soon 
have mine." Sir Henry Capel, Essex's brother, " waited 
on the King, and was so weak as to ask leave to go into 
mourning for his brother. The King in a despising way 
rather muttered out, ' You may do as you please.' " Ailes- 
bury pleased Charles by neatly evading the responsibility 
of taking Monmouth, who had fled ; and he tells the story 
of the Duke's reconciliation to the King at Mrs. Croft's 
house; "and returning from Mrs. Croft's wrapt up in a 
cloak, Colonel Griffin (since Lord) espied him in a passage, 
and went up to the King hastily and out of breath, and 
told him the Duke of Monmouth was in the Court, and 
that if guards were sent they might easily take him. The 
King answered, with a disdainful look : ' You are a fool ; 
James is at Brussels.' He was never in the King's graces, 
but after that officiousness, he could never bear the sight 
of him." 

After the deaths of the chief conspirators, the Whig 
opposition ceased, never to revive till James II's reign. 
Local self-government was abolished, and every place of 
responsibility throughout the kingdom filled with King's 


men ; and for the rest of his life Charles ruled peacefully 
without a Parliament, having attained his desire of abso- 
lute rule, based on a standing army, and the financial help 
of France, though also on Anglicanism and persecution of 
Dissent. For the rest of his reign, James, Rochester, 
Barillon, and the Duchess of Portsmouth managed affairs, 
opposed continually, though for some time ineffectually, 
by Halifax. Charles rested from his strenuous political 
labours, and sauntered in his inimitable way, to all appear- 
ances, though meditating and in part carrying out, many 
reforms, both private and public ; at least, according to 
Ailesbury, who spoke what he believed to be the truth. 
" He was pleased to tell me in 1684, that at Easter 1685, 
he should be able to pay the Civil List and the arrears. 
It is understood that the Guards and Garrison and the 
Navy were duly paid. And that if God gave him life, his 
next study would be in a very short time, to pay the 
Bankers' debts. 'Which. God knows,' said the King, 
'lies so much at my heart, and God forgive those vile 
persons that were the cause of that false step I made, to 
give it no worse a term.' * He went on : ' If I once 
accomplish that, I shall be most happy ; and after that, by 
degrees, I will take into consideration the most crying 
debts of that glorious Martyr, the King my Father.' I 
cannot repeat every individual word, but this is the sub- 
stance of what he told me, and ended that he knew but 
too well what it was to want money. ' I will have by me 
a hundred thousand guineas in my strong box.' I have 
been told there was found at his death about sixty thousand 
pounds. . . . ' I would have every one live under his own 
vine and fig-tree. Give me my just prerogative, and for 
subsidies, I will never ask more, unless I and the nation 

1 Charles said to Shaftesbury's face that he had been one of the first to 
advise him to close the 'Exchequer ; in 1672, Shaftesbury absolutely denied 
this, and all the weight of evidence is in the Earl's favour, though Burnet 
(i. 550) agrees with Charles. It is possible that the King's speech, as reported 
by Bruce, refers to other measures, and not that of the Exchequer. 


should be so unhappy as to have a war on our hands ; and 
that at most may be one summer's business at sea." One 
of the things which occupied Charles during the last 
months of his life was the building of his new palace at 
Winchester ; and of it he said to Ailesbury : " God'sfish, 
modesty must sooner or later be rewarded, and when 'tis 
otherwise, 'tis the fault of the sovereign, and not of the 
subject, I will order John [ = the Earl of Bath] to put you 
into waiting the first time I go thither, and although it be 
not your turn, that I may show you the place I delight so 
in ; and I shall be so happy this week as to have my house 
covered with lead." This was Sunday night, and the 
Saturday following he was embalmed. The King's palace 
at Winchester recalls his hunting-lodge at Newmarket, 
built by Sir Christopher Wren ; while the King was 
inspecting it, he said, "the rooms were too low." Sir 
Christopher, a little man, walked round them looking up 
and about them, and said : " I think, an it please your 
Majesty, they are high enough." Charles then stooped to 
his architect's height, and walking about thus, replied : 
"Ay, Sir Christopher, I think they are high enough." 
One of the last glimpses of the King before his death is 
given by Evelyn : " I can never forget the inexpressible 
luxury and prophaneness, gaming and all dissoluteness, 
and were totall forgetfullnesse of God (it being Sunday 
evening), which this day se'nnight I was witnesse of the 
King sitting and toying etc., his concubines, Portsmouth, 
Cleaveland, and Mazarine, with a French boy singing love 
songs, in that glorious gallery, whilst about 20 of the greate 
courtiers and other dissolute persons were at basset round 
a large table, a bank of at least 2000 in gold before them 
upon which two gentlemen who were with me made re- 
flexions with astonishment. Six days after was all in the 
dust." In February, 1685, the King was taken with his last 
illness, the various reports of which are so contradictory 
that I shall be somewhat detailed in discussing the matter. 
In January, 1685, the King was suffering from a sore irj 


his leg, 1 " which looked like the gout," and this prevented 
him going out much, so that he spent much time in his 
laboratory, running a process for the fixation of mercury. 
When he took the air, it was in a caliche, when Bruce had 
the honour to attend him ; and Bruce shall tell the rest 
of the story, as far as possible, in his own words. " On 
Sunday I desired my father that he would attend the 
King's supper, which he seldom or never did, by reason 
he lived at St. John's, Clerkenwell. The King immediately 
spoke to him : ' It is a great wonder, my lord, for to see 
you at this hour, but I know very well the reason I never 
see you ; but I am ashamed that I have not given you more 
marks of my favour. But I will make it up to your son ; 
he is now about me, and we shall never part ! ' It is 
not to be expressed the transport of joy my father was 
in, and the old courtiers assured me that they never saw 
the King so well, nor in so good a humour. He did eat 
with an excellent stomach, and one thing very hard of 
digestion a goose egg, if not two. He had an habitual 
custom to go afterwards to the Duchess of Portsmouth's 
for to amuse himself with the company that ate there, 
for of late years it was only with that intent, and I have 
good reasons to believe that he was seeking by degrees to 
have her retire. After I had supped I found him there, 
and in the most charming humour possible. . . . When we 
come to the district of the bedchamber, I by my office was 
to light him to the bedchamber door, and giving the 
candle to the page of the backstairs it went out, though 
a very large wax candle and without any wind. The 
page of the backstairs was more superstitious, for he 

1 Lord Lansdowne (Wks., ij. 260) says, a running sore in the leg, and that 
the King hastened his own death by treating it with quack medicines 
(Burnet, ij. 456, n. l). Bruce says: "A small sore on one heel." Burnet 
remarks that " All this winter the King looked better than he had done for 
many years," and calls the sore "a humour" (ij. 454), and says later: "he 
came to Ly. P.'s at night, and called for a porringer of spoon meat. It was 
made too strong for his stomach. So he eat little of it, and he had an unquiet 
night "(p. 456). 


looked on me, shaking his head. The King always 
lying in his own bedchamber, we had a bed placed each 
night to be near him, and when the page of the backstairs 
lighted us from the room where we undressed, on his 
retiring we shut up the door on the inside with a brass 
knob, and so went to bed. Several circumstances made 
the lodging very uneasy the great grate being filled with 
Scotch coal that burnt all night, a dozen dogs that came 
to our bed, and several pendulums that struck at the 
half, quarter, and all not going alike, it was a continual 
chiming. The King being constantly used to it, it was 
habitual. I sleeping but indifferently, perceived that the 
King turned himself sometimes, not usual for him ; he 
always called in the morning of himself; I heard his voice, 
but discovered not any imperfection. 1 We had the liberty 
to go to his bedside in the morning before anybody came 
in, and might entertain him with discourse at pleasure, 
and ask of him anything. Unfortunately a certain modesty 
possessed me, 2 and besides we had his ear whenever we 
pleased. So I arose and turned back the brass knob, and 
the under ones came in to make the fire, and I retired to 
dress myself in our room. Passing by in the next room 
to the bed-chamber, I found there the physicians and 
chirurgeons that attended to visit his heel. Mr. Robert 
Howard, 3 a Groom of the Bedchamber, came to me and 
asked me how the King had slept, and if quietly. I told 
him that he had turned sometimes. " Lord ! " said he, 
" that is an ill mark, and contrary to his custom ! " and 
then told me that at rising he could not, or would not, say 
one word, 4 that he was as pale as ashes, and gone to his 
private closet. On which I came away presently and sent 
in Mr. Chirfins, the first page of the backstairs, and keeper 

1 Bruce may have been too sleepy at that moment. 
* I.e. or else I might have seen at once that he was ill. 

3 Called " Thorn Howard by Lyttelton (cf. over). . 

4 In this interval, perhaps, Dr. King first saw him and spoke to him, and 
being disturbed by the King's broken discourse, went out and told Lord 
Peterborough, who told him to go in again (Burnet, ij. 456). 


of his closet, for to beg of him to come to his chamber, 
for a more bitter morning I never felt, and he only in his 
nightgown. Mr. Chiffins telling me he minded not what 
he said, I sent him in again (for no other had that liberty), 
on which he came out pale and wan, and had not the 
liberty of his tongue, for the Earl of Craven, Colonel of 
the Footguards, being there to take the word, he showed 
him the paper where the days of the month were set down 
with the word ; and others spoke to him, but he answered 
nothing. It being shaving day, his barber told him all 
was ready. He always sat with his knees against the 
window, and the barber having fixed the linen on one side, 
went behind the chair to do the same on the other, and I 
standing close to the chair, he fell into my arms in the 
most violent fit of apoplexy. Dr. King, and he had been 
a chirurgeon, happened to be in the room of his own 
accord, the rest having retired before. I asked him if he 
had any lancets, and he replying he had, I ordered him 
to bleed the King without delay, which he did ; l and 
perceiving the blood, I went to fetch the Duke of York, 
who came so on the instant that he had one shoe and one 
slipper. At my return with the Duke, the King was in 
bed, and in a pretty good state, and on going on the 
contrary side [to] where the Duke was, he perceiving me, 
took me fast by the hand, saying: ' I see you love me dying 

1 Cf. Sir Chas. Lyttelton to Chas. Hatton, 3 February, 1685 : "Yester- 
day as the King was dressing [Monday 2 February], he was seized with a 
convulsion fit and gave a great scream and fell into his chair. Dr. King 
happening to be present, with great judgement and courage (though he be not 
his sworn physician) without other advice, immediately let him blood himself 
... he went into his closset in his goune, and stayed half an homer alone, 
and Thorn Howard desired Will Chiffing to goe to Aim, but he would not let 
him come in, and as soon as he came out, the convulsion seized him. . . . The 
physicians conclude the sore on his heele was ye goute and the applying 
plasters to it repelled ye humour to his head." [I have italicized words 
which supply gaps in, or contradict, Bruce.] Evelyn notes that Dr. King 
must have a regular pardon granted him, as he did not wait for some sworn 
doctor's advice. King was voted ^1000 by the Privy Council, which, how- 
ever, was never paid him. Burnet says of the fit : " he looked black, and his 
eyes turned in his head " (ij. 456). 


as well as living,' and thanked me heartily for the orders I 

gave Dr. King (who was knighted for that service) to bleed 

him, as also for sending Mr. Chiffins to persuade him to 

come out of his closet ; and then told me that he found 

himself not well, and that he went to take some of his 

drops commonly called the " King's Drops," and that he 

walked about hoping to be better, but on my solicitations 

he came down (for there were three or four steps coming 

out of the closet), and he said that coming down his head 

turned round and he was in danger of falling. I have 

been so prolix in this account, by reason it hath been so 

maliciously and with malignine industry spread about, that 

the King had been poisoned ; and those inventing devils 

would have brought me into the knowledge of it ; and on 

the Monday the King was seemingly recovered by that 

bleeding. The whole town and city sung my praises for 

being the sole instrument by the orders I gave Dr. King, 

and so little must one regard what they call the cry of the 

people. The Queen came forthwith to the King * and her 

concern and deportment was beyond what I can describe. 

He continued so well on Tuesday, 2 the next day, that the 

messengers were sent into every county for to carry the 

happy news ; but God knows the joy was not lasting, for 

on Wednesday in the evening he fell into a cold sweat, 

and the physicians declared that he was in imminent 

danger." 3 On Thursday "about noone, the physitians 

1 Bruce, in a letter printed in the European Magazine, xxvij. 22, says that 
when he and the Duke of York returned, " we found the Queen there, and 
the impostor says it was the Duchess of Portsmouth." The King's first words 
on recovering consciousness on Monday are said to have been to ask for the 
Queen. (Ellis, Original Letters, No. 382, vol. iij. p. 337.) 

3 Evelyn (ij. 442) says : "He still complain 'd, and was relapsing, often 
fainting, with sometimes epileptic symptoms, till Wednesday, for which he 
was cupp'd, let blood in both jugulars, had both vomit and purges, w ch so 
reliev'd him that on Thursday hopes of recovery were signified in the public 
Gazette. . . ." 

3 Sir Chas. Lyttelton says that at 8 o'clock on Wednesday evening the 
disease seemed to have fallen on the King's lungs, "which makes him labor 
to breath, and I see nothing but sad lookes come out from him." 


thought him feaverish. This they seemed glad of, as being 
more easily allay'd and methodically dealt with than his 
former fit ; so they prescrib'd the famous Jesuits' powder ; 
but it made him worse, and some very able doctors who 
were present did not think it a fever, but the effect of his 
frequent bleeding and other sharp operations us'd by them 
about his head, so that probably the powder might stop 
the circulation and renew his former fits, which now made 
him very weak." * The " sharp operations " amounted to 
horrible tortures, which the King had to undergo through 
the anxious ignorance of his doctors. Cantharides plasters 
were applied to his head, shoulders, arms, and legs ; hot 
pans were applied to his head ; strong spirits, and the 
" antimonial cup " were given him, besides the remedies 
already mentioned. After this treatment, the statement of 
Lyttelton that "he was not dead" seems surprising, 
though it is extremely probable that " he expressed great 
sense by his groanes all y e time." * The day after the 
stroke (Tuesday) the plasters were all taken off, except 
that on his head, and his mouth and tongue and throat 
became very much inflamed on the Thursday " with y e 
hot mediums, which is y e cause he has bine twice let blood 
since noone ; but the 2nd time was because y e first was 
unsuccessful ; and he bled not above two ounces, which was 
by Pierce ; y e second time by Hols, and then he bled nine 
ounces. The phizicians were with Councill this afternoon, 
and told them they beleeved his Majesty in a condition of 
safety." 3 "On Thursday, that great and pious prelate, 
Sandcroft, Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Bishops in 
toun, 4 came to offer him their spiritual service. The 

1 Evelyn, ij. 442. 

* Luttrell tells us : he had every night since his illness four physicians and 
two chirurgeons salt up with him, and was also attended in like manner in the 
day-time, who applied such things as they thought fitting. (Brief Relation, i.) 

* Lyttleton, ut supra: Burnet, ij. 458, says: " On Thursday the physicians 
told the duke the King was not like to live a day to an end." This would be 

* According to Evelyn, the Bishops of London, Durham, Ely, and Bath 
and Wells. James II. says, two Bishops. 


Archbishop was of a timid temper and had a low voice, 
and Bishop Ken the contrary, and like to a nightingale for 
the sweetness of it, so he was desired by the rest to per- 
suade the King to hearken to them. The King thanked 
them very much, and told them that it was time enough 
or somewhat to that purpose, and modestly waived them, 
which was in my hearing." About this time the King 
complained that he felt as if a fire were burning within 
him, and the sight of his sufferings so much afflicted the 
Queen, that she had to be taken fainting to her room. 
"The Bishops reading the prayers appointed in the Common 
Prayer Book on that occasion, when they came to the place 
where usually they exhort a sick person to make a confes- 
sion of his sins, the Bishop of Bath and Wells . . . adver- 
tized him, It was not of obligation ; and after a short 
exhortation asked him if he was sorry for his sins ? which 
the King saying he was, the Bishop pronounced the 
Absolution, and then asked him if he pleased to receive 
the Sacrament ? to which the King made no reply, and 
being pressed by the Bishop several times, gave no other 
answer, but that it was time enough, or that he would 
think of it." * Meanwhile the Duchess of Portsmouth had 
been talking to the French Ambassador Barillon, to this 
effect : " M. 1'ambassadeur, I have come to tell you the 
greatest possible secret, and if it were known, I should lose 
my head. The King of England at the bottom of his 
heart is a Catholic, but he is surrounded with Protestant 
Bishops, and no one tells him of his condition or speaks to 
him of God. I can no longer enter his room with any 
decency, especially as the queen is there almost constantly. 
M. le due d'York thinks of his own business, and has 
too much of it, to be as careful as he ought to be of 
the King's conscience. Go and say that I have im- 
plored you to tell him to think of what can be done 

1 Clarke's James II. 

2 Burnet (followed by Macaulay), ij. 457 : " Lady Portsmouth sat in the 
bed, taking care of him as a wife of a husband." (Almost certainly untrue.) 


to save the King his brother's soul." 1 And now 
Barillon entered the King's room, took the Duke of 
York aside, and delivered the Duchess' message. The 
Duke, commanding the crowd to stand aloof, whispered to 
Charles, who replied audibly : " Yes, yes, with all my heart." 
" Shall I bring a priest ? " " Do, brother, for God's sake, 
do, and lose no time. But no ; you will get into trouble." 
" If it costs me my life, I will fetch a priest." 2 At length, 
after some fruitless errands and consequent delay, Chiffinch 
brought Father Huddleston, disguised in a cloak and 
periwig, up the backstairs ; " and as soon as he had pre- 
pared everything that was necessary, the duke whispered 
the King in the ear." Upon that 3 " the King commanded 
them all to retire out of the room, telling them that he had 
something to communicate to his brother." 4 All retired 
except the Earls of Bath and Feversham. 5 " As soon as the 
King saw the Father come in, he cried out : ' You that 
saved my body is now come to save my soul ! ' 6 This is 
literally true on a Christian. I have my opinions to myself, 
but I hate a lie and to impose." The King " proceeded to 
make a confession of his whole life with exceeding tender- 
ness of heart, and pronounced an act of contrition with 
great piety and compunction ; in this he spent about an 
hour, 7 and having desired to receive all the succours fit for 
a dying man, he continued making pious ejaculations, and 
frequently lifting up his hands, cried : " Mercy, sweet Jesus, 
mercy," till the priest was ready to give him extreme 

1 Forneron, Louise de Kerouaitte, pp. 123-4 (Fr. ed.). 

2 Macaulay, i. 

3 Burnet, ij. 45-8 : Macaulay, i. 

4 Ham's Chas. ij. ; ij. 391. Letter of Aprice a priest, quoted in Burnet, 
ij. 458, n. 2. 

* Burnet, ij. 458 : Ailesbury. Macpherson (i. 421) says that the Earl of 
Bath and Capt. Trevannion of the Guards were the only persons present 
besides the Duke. 

6 Burnet (ij. 459) : " It was given out that the King said to Huddleston, 
that he had saved him twice, first his body, now his soul." 

7 Burnet (ij. 458): "The company was kept out half an hour;" but he 
wishes to show that the last rites were perfunctorily performed. 


unction ; the blessed Sacrament being come by that time 
this was ended, 1 he asked his Majesty if he desired to 
receive it ? who answered, He did, most earnestly, if he 
thought him worthy of it. Accordingly, the priest after 
some further preparations going about to give it him, he 
raised himself up, and said : " Let me meet my heavenly. 
Lord in a better posture than lying on my bed ; " but being 
desired not to discompose himself, he recited the act of 
contrition, and then received with great piety and devotion," 2 
though he found so much difficulty in swallowing the Host, 
that the double-locked chamber-door had to be opened and 
water got 3 : "after which Father Huddleston making him 
a short exhortation, left him in so much peace of mind that 
he looked approaching death in the face with all imaginable 
tranquillity and Christian resolution. The company being 
then called in again, 4 His Majesty expressed the greatest 
kindness and tenderness for the Duke that could possibly 
be conceived ; he owned in the most public manner the 
sense he had of his brotherly affection during the whole 
course of his life, and particularly in this last action ; he 
commended his great submission and constant obedience 
to all his commands, and asked him pardon aloud for the 
rigorous treatment he had so long exercised his patience 
with ; all which he said in so affecting a manner, as drew 
floods of tears from all that were present ; he spoke most 
tenderly to the Queen too"; 5 and now the Dukes of 

1 Higgons, Remarks, 280, says that the Host was brought from Somerset 
House Chapel. Burnet (ij. 458) says Huddleston brought it with him, having 
gone to another priest living at court [some said the Portuguese ambassador's 
chaplain], who gave him the pix with an hostie in it ; but that the poor priest 
was so frighted, that he ran out of Whitehall in such haste that he struck 
against a post, and seemed to be in a fit of madness with fear." (James' 
account is more likely.) 

2 James II. 

3 Burnet, ij. 459. 

4 Burnet places the exhortations of Ken and the others here ; and adds 
the King's remark that " he hoped he should climb up to heaven's gate " 
(ij. 461). 

* James II. 


Grafton, Southampton, Northumberland, St. Albans, and 
Richmond, were brought in, and Charles blessed them, 
recommended the Duchess of Portsmouth " over and over 
again " and her son to the Duke of York, and said, " Do not 
let poor Nelly starve " l ; " in fine he left nothing unsaid or 
undone, that so small a time would allow either to reconcile 
himself with God, or to make satisfaction to those he had 
injured upon earth, disposing himself with the piety and 
unconcernedness becoming a Christian, and the resolution 
becoming a King." * When the King blessed his children, 
"some that were in the room cried out, that the King was 
their common father, and upon that, all kneeled down for 
his blessing, which he gave them." 3 "He gave his breeches 
and keys to the Duke, who was almost continually kneeling 
by his bed- side, and in teares." 4 In the last hours, the 
Queen became too exhausted to attend him, and sent to ask 
pardon for any offence she might unwittingly have given 
her husband : " She ask my pardon, poor woman ! " said 
Charles; "I ask hers with all my heart." 5 "Thus he 
passed Thursday night with greate difficulty, when com- 
plaining of a pain in the side, they drew 12 ounces more of 
blood from him ; this was by six in the morning on Friday, 
and it gave him reliefe, but it did not continue, for being 
now in much paine, and strugling for breath, he lay dozing." 6 
At intervals during the last hours the King bade the 
attendants draw back the curtains, that he might have one 
more look at the day. He also said that it was time to 
wind up a clock that stood near his bed ; and finally : " He 
had been a most unconscionable time a-dying, but he hoped 

1 Cunningham, p. 182. Evelyn, ij. 444. Cf. Burnet, who says that Ken 
commended the Duke of Richmond to the King. He also remarks on the 
" calm and constancy " of the King in his last hours (ij. 459). 

9 James II. 

* Burnet, ij. 460. 

4 Evelyn, ij. 444. 

5 Burnet, ij. 457, n. I. Ellis, Original Letters, iij. 337. Cunningham, 
p. 195- 

6 Evelyn, ij. 442. 




they would excuse it." l Soon after, his senses began to 
fail him, and he lay unconscious and breathing stertorously ; 
and "just at high water and full moon at noon he expired, 
and though I bore, and according to my duty, all high duty 
and respect towards his royal successor, I must say that 
thus ended my happy days at a Court, and to this hour I 
bewail my loss, that of the three kingdoms. God's will be 
done on earth as in heaven \" 2 So Sir John Reresby 
speaks of his " great and good master who is gone " ; 3 and 
North says of the time : " We walked about like ghosts, 
generally to and from Whitehall. We met few persons 
without passion in their eyes, as we also had. We thought 
of no concerns, public or private, but were contented to 
live and breathe as if we had nought else to do but to expect 
the issue of this grand crisis. 4 " There was a post-mortem 
examination of the King's body, and general suspicion at 
the time inclined towards poison as the cause of his death. 
His funeral was quiet and ordinary, owing to the King's 
dying in the Catholic religion, but all the Privy Council, 
all the household, and all the Lords about town attended 
at the funeral, the great officers breaking their staves over 
the grave, which was in a vault under Henry VII's Chapel 
at Westminster, on the night of 14 February, 1685. 5 

1 Cunningham p. 125. Macaulay, i. 

2 Ailesbury, pp. 87-91. 
* Reresby. 

4 North, Autobiography. 

5 James II, ij. 6, and Evelyn, ij. 449. 


"A very merry, dancing, drinking, 
Laughing, quaffing, and unthinking time." 

DRYDEN, Secular Masque, 11. 39-40. 

A week in a courtier's life The great men at Court James, Duke 
of York Henry, Duke of Gloucester The Duke of Buckingham 
The Duke of Lauderdale The Earl of Rochester and Sir Charles 
Sedley Earl of Dorset "Mob of Gentlemen" Prince Rupert 
Duke and Duchess of Newcastle Two Duchesses of York Barbara 
Palmer Anne Fitzroy Duchess Mazarin Louise de Keroiialle 
Nell Gwyn Character of Charles II. 

BEFORE considering the separate persons of the 
Court, a week in a courtier's life may be an 
interesting study. " This morning we awake about 
8 o'clock and have a cup of chocolate before rising at 9. We 
are then attended by our valet and barber, and after the 
duties of the toilet, read and answer some billet-doux. 
After this pleasant task, we stroll out to Whitehall Gardens, 
and meet our friends in idle gossip about the great sun- 
dial ; as we stand here, a dark and formal man, wearing a 
black lozenge of plaster across his nose, walks by, bowing 
distantly to some of our group. This is Henry Bennet, 
Lord Arlington, whom we have seen before in Coin and 
Spain, and his grandeeship has in truth the right Spanish 
air of gravity, concealing, as some say, but little brains. 
The first newcomer to join our company is my Lord Duke 
of Buckingham, hot and flushed from his elaboratory, 
where he seeks the elixir vita and the aurum potabile. His 


head is full of a new scheme for fixing mercury, a new 
amour, and a new way of burning muscadel, all of which 
he pours forth to us at once. Presently, most of us turn 
towards S. James' Park, when we see the King sauntering 
along to meet us, accompanied by a train of little dogs, 
and wearing a coat much behind the fashion. After our 
first respectful greeting, he begins a conversation with 
Sedley and Buckingham, in which he soon manages to 
include us all, and it is a merry company that enters the 
Park. His Majesty proposes a game of Pall-Mall, so 
we all proceed to the Mall, not altogether willingly, for 
the morning is warm still, when we gain the smoothly- 
gravelled walk, we have the pleasure of seeing some very 
good play by the King, Buckingham, and Bab May. 

" Bab ventures to suggest to His Majesty that we should 
go to the water-fowl, as in his capacity of keeper, he is 
a little anxious about the health of some new arrivals, a 
fine goose and gander from the River Gambo in the East 
Indies. So we stroll along by the canal where we 
skated last winter, those of us at least who learnt the art 
during our exile in Holland, and approach the home of 
the King's animals and birds. By the first pool we see Mr. 
Evelyn, watching the pelican, a melancholy water-fowl, 
brought from Astracan by the Russian Ambassador, and 
even more greedy than the solan-geese. A white raven 
flutters up croaking, and close behind him some red-billed 
jackdaws, or choughs as our Cornish neighbours call them, 
a present from my Lord Hatton : most of us, however, 
are chiefly interested in the Balearian crane, who has had 
a broken leg cut off above the knee, and a boxwood leg and 
thigh substituted, with a joint so accurately made, that the 
bird uses it as if it were natural. As one or two of the 
company inspect the deer, the elks, stags, antelopes, roe- 
bucks, Guinea goats and Arabian sheep, the King is 
pointing out the new device upon which he and Bab May 
have fallen, of having withy-pots as nests, just above 
the surface of the water, for the water-fowl to lay in. As 


we walk out of the park, we notice that the orange-trees 
are coming on very well. 

" The King dismisses us with a gracious smile, and walks 
to his own apartments ; some of us remain in the shady park, 
others take boat at Whitehall stairs and go dine with 
friends. Immediately after dinner, we make visits to ladies 
of our acquaintance, some going to Miss Stuart's, and 
finding there Lord Rochester and Sir George Etheredge, 
building card-houses against each other. At 3 o'clock, 
we go to the King's Theatre to see Hart and Mohun 
act. We pay money for our boxes, contrary to the 
custom of some habitues, who are engaging in a warfare 
of words with the doorkeepers as to whether they will pay 
then or later, and enter the theatre, finding already many 
ladies and gentlemen seated in the boxes and on the forms, 
listening to the French music, which has been playing 
some time to the early arrivals. The ground-floor is now 
boarded and the boxes carpeted, though we can remember 
the time, before Tom Killigrew came to the front, when 
rushes, rushes, were your only strewing. Now, too, the 
theatre has a glass roof and a cupola, though these are so 
thin that heavy rain or hail comes through, and a storm 
was threatening as we entered. The play is a new one, 
and the King and the Duke of York have given some old 
state-robes to the actors, and the Duke of Buckingham has 
with usual display and generosity, capped the King's 
.500 with a gift of 700 ; so we expect to see a very 
finely presented play. 

" Meanwhile, we look round to see whom we know in 
the audience, recognizing with no particular joy some 
unpleasantly familiar citizens' faces in the i8d. or \2.d. 
seats, and thank our stars that we can detain Orange Moll 
and her assistant wenches longer, and with less chance of 
being cheated for our pains, than the bourgeoisie. Orange 
Moll stands with her back to the stage, and cracks a few 
smart jests with us, while another girl near us sells a 
gallant twelve oranges at 6d. each, which on buying he 


distributes to the ladies nearest him, and then settles 
himself to loll in the girl's lap, till the curtain shall go up. 
But the play will not begin yet, for their Majesties are 
still to come, and they must be stayed for. Some are still 
employed in combing their periwigs, and in side-glassing 
the ladies, especially one who is languishingly lolling her 
head against the side of her box. The theatre attendants 
and a few link-boys light the wax candles, and the ten 
fiddlers of the orchestra burst into a fresh tune, as my 
Lord Duke of Buckingham and a crowd of courtiers enter. 
His Grace takes a box near Harry Killegrew, who leans 
over and jests with him, becoming at length somewhat 
severe and impertinent, and finally striking my Lord Duke 
on the head with his sheathed sword, whereat the Duke 
leaps out of his box and gives chase to the now fleeing 
Harry ; the Duke's wig flies off, but he does not stop till 
he has caught, cuffed, and kicked out Killegrew. Just as 
things are settling down, their Majesties, with a brilliant 
train, enter the theatre, the curtain rises, a saucy actress 
bounds on to the stage in a sheperdess' costume, and 
speaks a witty prologue, so full of doubles entendre*, that 
many ladies in the pit put on their black masks at once, to 
hide their blushes. After the first act, we are amused by 
the tricks of a Fop, bien gant<t et trh foeill^ who has left 
his noisy cbterie in Fop-Corner opposite to us, to sit next a 
fascinating vizard-mask in the pit, just below us : he is, to 
amuse himself and the lady, rapping people on the back, 
twirling their hats, and the like, and then looking demurely, 
as if he did not do it. During the second act, Sedley and 
a lady near him talk so loud that we hardly know whether 
to be angry because we are losing the- dialogue on the 
stage, or amused at the wittiness of theirs. Some idle 
fellows come in late in the middle of this act, and speak to 
a few friends, and after asking ' What play do they play ? ' 
and being told by another of like nature with themselves, 
' Some confounded play or other,' they go out, probably 
to hasten to the Duke's Theatre, and do the like there. 


To an orchestral piece played in a long wait between two 
acts, the King beats time with his feet, and talks 
animatedly to the Queen. My lady Duchess of Cleveland 
is in attendance on the Queen, and looking most stormy ; 
nor is the reason far to seek, for Nell Gwyn, with Buck- 
hurst and a French Marquis are present in a side-box, and 
the glances which pass between her and His Majesty are 
many. Soon the expected storm outside breaks, and in a 
few minutes the unhappy people in the centre of the pit 
are drenched, and have to fly for standing-room at the 
back. At five o'clock the play ends, and as we go out we 
comment on Killegrew's new Italian scenery, so well- 
painted, and apparently so easy to move. We retire 
behind the scenes to talk with Mrs. Knipp, Mrs. Brace- 
girdle, Roxellana, and other favourites ; some even discuss 
acting and literature with Hart and the men. 

" After an hour or so's flirtation, and a pint of wine at a 
tavern, we drive, ride, or walk, to Hyde Park, and take our 
place in the stream of carriages, or stroll afoot to the 
Ring : in either case we leave our lackeys and attendants 
outside the Park Gates, lest they should inconveniently 
crowd the place. We meet the King and Queen, the Duke 
and Duchess of York, and bow low, though if we meet 
them ever so often again this evening, we need not repeat 
this ; so to a lady whom we know, we bow on first passing, 
but afterwards make no conge", or we offend her. We 
may, however, side-glass her, for that is the new word : 
and to let it down suddenly on passing, is very passionate. 
Nevertheless, His Majesty and the Duchess of Cleveland 
lolling in her coach, salute each other at every turn. The 
King is afoot, the Queen in a glass coach, and the Duke 
and Duchess in a more old-fashioned catectie. Presently we 
hear a sound of crashing glass, and looking round see that 
my Lady Peterborough in her haste to speak to Lady 
Mordaunt, has thrust her head through the glass of her 
new coach ; and a lady near us is heard congratulating 
herself on possessing only the old-fashioned tin lattices to 
her equipage. 


" A few stay after nine o'clock in the Park, talking to 
masked ladies, whom they know, or wish to know ; but 
most of us retire earlier to Whitehall, to the Queen's 
cabinet. Here, in a chamber hung with blue damask with 
divisions of gold lace, and lit by chandeliers, we find her 
Majesty, sitting in front of the door, talking to a circle of 
ladies, of whom the wife of Habreu, the Portuguese envoy, 
is one. The King and his brother are both here, pacing 
up and down, talking cheerfully to any of the gentlemen 
on indifferent subjects ; all politics and business are strictly 
forbidden at this hour. The Queen at last signifies her 
wish to break up the assembly, and many of us go down 
to the Groom-Porter's, and lose our money against my 
Lord St. Alban's at basset. Others leave Whitehall for 
our lodgings, a tavern, or a street frolic. 

"The next day, Sunday, we attend service in his 
Majesty's private chapel, where the King's gravity relaxes 
at a furiously false note in the anthem, and disappears 
when the fiddlers play a new tune execrably ; while the 
Duke has spent much of his time in laughing with the 
Duchess of Cleveland through the hangings parting his 
closet from that of the ladies. To-night some of us begin 
our turn of bedchamber duty ; and the King rouses us at 
five in the morning for tennis ; he plays a good set in the 
Whitehall Courts, weighing himself before and after play, 
and finding that he has lost 4^ Ibs. during the game. 
His Majesty and Bab May play Prince Rupert and 
Captain Cooke, just winning. During the game the 
Prince falls, whereat the King merrily remarks ' It is well 
the court is new-built.' After tennis, his Majesty takes us 
all for a grievously fast walk, until we are all ready to 
drop, and then informs us that the Court will go to New- 
market to-morrow, at which we are all somewhat aghast, 
as there is a Court Ball to-night ; but still, we must put a 
cheerful face on these serious matters. The morning we 
spend as far as possible in complete idleness, for the 
King requires not our services, as being in the Privy 


Council till dinner ; yet a few are stirring enough for a 
game of bowls, while the rest look on, smoke, drink cider, 
and bet freely on the sets. In the afternoon, a cock-fight 
and an opera at the Duke's Theatre, occupy us ; and later 
we all meet again in Hyde Park, but finding it very dusty 
and hot, in spite of the trees round the Ring, we go to the 
Stairs and take a short row on the river before the Ball. 

" The Ballroom is filled with a throng of all the Court 
dignitaries, and almost immediately the King and Queen, 
the Duke and Duchess of York, Prince Rupert, and the 
Duke of Monmouth enter, and all take seats. The King 
leads out the Duchess of York, as the Queen does not feel 
well ; the Duke of York takes the Duchess of Bucking- 
ham ; the Duke of Monmouth the Duchess of Cleveland ; 
and other lords other ladies, to dance the Bransle, or 
French Brawl, where hands are taken in turn. After this, 
his Majesty takes out a lady for a single coranto, a swift 
and lively dance, which the King dances to perfection ; 
and then the lords lead out the ladies, a very noble and 
pleasing sight. Presently the Comte de Gramont enters 
in a neat but scarcely brilliant enough suit ; but he makes 
such admirable excuses, and tells such a laughable tale to 
account for it, that all stop dancing to listen. The King 
next calls for the country dances, and Cuckolds all arow 
for the first, which he says is the ancient dance of 
England. When the King dances, all the ladies, even the 
Queen, stand up. His Majesty always arouses our 
admiration, as the best dancer at Court ; next come the 
Dukes of Buckingham and Monmouth, and the Earls 
of Arran and Feversham. The best ladies are the 
Duchess of Monmouth, the Duchess of Cleveland, and 
Sir Henry de Vic's daughter. We break up about mid- 
night, and those of us who are to go to Newmarket 
to-morrow go to bed at once, except such as are of the 
bedchamber ; however, luckily for them, his Majesty 
himself retires at half after twelve. 

" The next day, we ride to Newmarket and take up our 


respective lodgings in the town. On the morrow we rise 
early and go out a country walk with the King, all wearing 
plain suits, his Majesty only distinguished by his George 
and ribbon. After breakfast, we course the hare over the 
Plain ; and after dinner come the horse-races : the course 
is marked out all the way by white posts, of which the last 
pair are topped with flags. The King rides up, and stays 
about the middle of the course ; and while waiting, watches 
Lords Blandford and Jermyn play bowls. As the horses 
come up, His Majesty and we gallop after them to the 
winning post. The colours are the green taffeta of Sir 
Thos. Eliot, and the white of Mr. Bernard Howard. Sir 
Thomas's horse wins, and is greeted at the post with a 
flourish of trumpets and drums. At half after five his 
Majesty goes to his lodging, rests a little, and then goes 
for a short walk through Newmarket, and out the other 
side. In the evening we all go to a very poor play ; then 
to supper, then to one of the ladies' lodgings, then to bed. 
For the next few days the King only varies this by fox- 
hunting in the morning ; playing tennis in the afternoon 
with Prince Rupert, while we hunt dotterel ; going to the 
cock-pit at six, and the like : and at length we leave New- 
market for London again, stopping on our way at Euston, 
my Lord Arlington's house. But on our return to London 
we find serious matters, for once, must perforce occupy the 
attention of our Master, for there is a war at home among 
the mistresses, and rumours of another abroad." 

Such was perhaps a typical week in the life of a courtier 
not holding any great office of State. Certain of the greater 
courtiers require some individual attention. Next to the 
King himself in importance, though by no means in popu- 
larity, is James, Duke of York. Of greater gravity and 
steadiness than the King, he has not such understanding 
or wit : he would see things if he could, the King could if 
he would. He is fond of women, and while it is improbable 
that they offer themselves to him, as they do to the King, 
he can find, as the heir to the throne, many wherewith to 


amuse himself, if he so pleases. Yet his choice and taste 
are deplorable, insomuch that his Majesty says that his 
brother's mistresses are given him as penances by the 
priests. It is always perfectly easy to see whom he 
delighteth, or desireth to honour, by his open and 
unpleasant ogling ; which sometimes succeeds, though 
not in the case of little Jennings, who takes his notes, and 
drops them openly before the whole court, out of her muff, 
and the like. The Duke is even fonder of hawking than 
the King, and plays golf and tennis well. His zeal for the 
navy is great, and in St. James' Palace he has many models 
of ships in glass cases. He is brave and honourable, 
careful of his word to suitors, but not so gracious as his 
brother. Under the influence of religious zeal, he becomes 
the " eternal foe of common sense " and even a harsh and 
cruel judge. Between the King and the Duke there is 
little love, especially when, through obstinacy or stupidity, 
the Duke incommodes his Majesty. Sometimes in his 
cups the King expresses himself very indecently on the 
subject, though one day in a set debauch at Sir George 
Carteret's house at Cranbourne, Sir Nicholas Armourer 
says to him : " By God, Sir, you are not so kind to the 
Duke of York of late as you used to be." " Not I ? " says the 
King, " why so ? " " Why," says he, " if you are, let us drink 
his health." " Why, let us," says the King, and Armourer 
falls on his knees and drinks it, and having done, the King 
rises to drink it, " Nay, Sir," says Armourer, " by God, you 
must do it on your knees ! " So he does, and then all 
the company ; and having done it, all fall a-crying for joy, 
being all maudlin, and kissing one another, the King 
the Duke of York, and the Duke of York the King, and 
in such a maudlin pickle as never people were : and 
so passed the day. But the King hath this good luck, 
that the next day he hates to have anybody mention 
what he has done the day before nor will suffer anybody 
to gain upon him that way ; which is a good quality. 
To conclude, the Duke is a firm friend, but a heavy 


enemy ; he generally judges well when things are laid 
before him, except when the violence of his spirit gives him 
a bias, which it does too often. He abhors drunkenness, 
and he never swears nor talks irreligiously ; and this is 
the more worthy of remark, in that this age hath more 
profane swearing among both sexes, all classes and ages, 
than any before, as Mr. Butler says very prettily : 

" How copious is our language lately grown, 
To make blaspheming, wit, and a jargon? 
And yet how expressive and significant, 
In Damme at once to curse, and swear, and rant ? 
As if no way express'd men's souls so well, 
As damming of them to the pit of hell ; 
Nor any asseveration were so civil, 
As mortgaging salvation to the devil." 

Henry of Oatlands, Duke of Gloucester, was a prince of 
the greatest hopes, undaunted courage, admirable parts, 
and a clear understanding ; he understood the Latin, 
French, Spanish, Italian, and Low Dutch ; he was of a 
temper different from both his brothers, though fond of 
women ; but he was active and loved business, apt to have 
particular friendships, had an insinuating temper, generally 
very acceptable. The King loved him much better than 
the Duke of York. But the Duke was uneasy when he 
saw there was no place left for him, since Monk was 
general. So he spoke to the Earl of Clarendon, that he 
might be made Lord Treasurer ; but he told him it was a 
post below his dignity. He would not be put off with 
that, for he could not bear an idle life, nor to see his 
brother at the head of the fleet, when he had neither busi- 
ness nor dependence. But the mirth and entertainments 
of the time raised his blood so high that he took the small- 
pox, of which he died in September, 1660, much lamented 
by all, but most by the King, who was never in his whole 
life seen so much troubled as he was upon that occasion. 
Some put it about that he died by treachery and poison, 


but it was not so, though rather by carelessness of his 

The Duke of Buckingham, though two years older 
than Charles, was brought up with the royal children, 
and seems to have then conceived, and always kept, in his 
own strange and flighty way, an affection for the King, 
though he frequently slandered and traduced him at home 
and abroad. He was one of the most brilliant, if least 
fixed, stars of the Court. His character was eminently 
composed of contradictions, in which the bad preponde- 
rated ; his person was graceful, his face handsome, and his 
address and manners excellent, insomuch that Sir John 
Reresby thought him the finest gentleman at Court, and 
Louis XIV called him the only English gentleman he had 
ever seen. He knew how to act all parts with so much 
grace and pleasantry that it was difficult to do without 
him, when he had a mind to make himself agreeable ; and 
he made himself so necessary to Miss Stewart that she 
sent all over the town for him, when he did not attend the 
King, to her apartments. He had no sort of literature, 
and, in spite of this, and of the fact that he was one of the 
most "deboshed fishes" at the Court, his play of The 
Re/iearsal, which ridicules the heroic plays of Dryden and 
others, is free from anything offensive, and is one of the 
few humorous pieces of the age. 

"A Duke of Bucks is one that has studied the whole 
body of vice. His parts are disproportionate to the whole, 
and, like a monster, he has more of some, and less of 
others, than he should have. He has pulled down all that 
nature raised in him, and built himself up again after a 
model of his own. He has dammed up all those lights 
that nature made into the noblest prospects of the world, 
and opened other little blind loopholes, backward, by turn- 
ing day into night, and night into day. His appetite to 
his pleasures is diseased and crazy . . . continual wine, 
women, and music, put false value upon things, which, by 
custom, become habitual, and debauch his understanding 




so, that he retains no right notion, no sense of things. . . . 
He rises, eats, and goes to bed by the Julian account, long 
after all others that go by the new style, and keeps the 
same hours with owls and the antipodes. He is a great 
observer of the Tartar customs, 1 and never eats till the 
great cham, having dined, makes proclamation that all the 
world may go to dinner. He does not dwell in his house, 
but haunts it like an evil spirit, that walks all night, to dis- 
turb the family, and never appears by day. He lives per- 
petually benighted, runs out of his life, and loses his time 
as men do their ways in the dark ; and as blind men are 
led by their dogs, so is he governed by some mean servant 
or other, that relates to his pleasures. He is as inconstant 
as the moon which he lives under, and altho' he does 
nothing but advise with his pillow all day, he is as great a 
stranger to himself as he is to the rest of the world. His 
mind entertains very freely all things that come and go, 
but, like guests and strangers, they are not welcome if they 
stay long. . . . Thus, with S. Paul, tho' in a different 
sense, he dies daily, and only lives in the night. . . . His 
ears are perpetually drilled with a fiddlestick. He en- 
dures pleasures with less patience than other men do their 
pains." 2 

Buckingham married in 1658 the daughter of Lord 
Fairfax, and for some time seems to have lived a happy 
and domestic life with her. But the Restoration was too 
much for him, and he became entangled with one of the 
worst women at the Court, Anna Maria Brudenel, Countess 
of Shrewsbury. For her he fought the famous duel with 
her husband, fatally wounding the Earl, while the lady, in 
page's costume, held his horse. He also took his mistress 
home, and when his patient wife declared that one house 

1 Like Nell Gwyn, when the Portsmouth went into mourning for her 
alleged relation, the Prince de Rohan. The Cham of Tartary had also died , 
and Nelly put on mourning for him ; and on being asked what relation he was 
to her, replied, " Exactly the same relation that the Prince de Rohan was to 
Mile. Keroualle." 
2 Butler, Characters. 


should not hold wife and mistress, Buckingham made the 
"devilish answer," "Why, Madam, I did think so, and 
therefore have ordered your coach to be ready to carry you 
to your father's." Of Buckingham's wit some specimens 
besides this are preserved, 1 and most of them satirical 
ebullitions of his flighty fancy, which rendered him un- 
accountable and untrustworthy to such a degree, that when 
Charles had repeatedly ordered him back from France in 
1670, the Duke delayed so long that his master answered 
an inquiry as to when he expected to see the Duke, " in 
the Valley of Jehoshaphat at the Day of Judgment." 

The Duke of Lauderdale, for most of the reign virtual 
viceroy of Scotland, was a great contrast to Buckingham 
in everything save morals ; " he made a very ill-appear- 
ance ; he was very big, his hair was red, hanging oddly 
about him ; his tongue was too big for his mouth, which 
made him bedew all he talked to ; and his whole manner 
was rough and boisterous, and very unfit for a Court. He 
was very learned, not only in Latin, in which he was a 
master, but also in Greek and Hebrew. . . . He was 
haughty beyond expression. ... He was the coldest 
friend and violentest enemy" ... he had a broad and 
brutal wit which recommended him to the King, into 
whose snuff-box he would always be dipping his fingers. 
He would sometimes bore the King by thrusting into his 
company at all times, and on one occasion, at a supper, a 
double sillabub-glass was prepared, the one-half of a goodly 
liquor, the other of filth unspeakable ; the King drank half 
and passed the glass to the tipsy Lauderdale, who drank 
the other half with vast approval, but was soon removed 
extremely ill. This checked his constant visits to the 
King for some time. 

The Earl of Rochester and Sir Charles Sedley, both 
alumni of a Puritan Oxford College, were lovely and 
pleasant in their lives, and not divided therein, though 
Sedley survived the Earl many years. They were both 

1 Cf. p. 218. 


" noble authors " and both rakes, like Buckingham, Dorset, 
and Etheredge. Rochester was the son of the Lord 
Wilmot who fled from Worcester with the King. He 
came to Court at the age of seventeen, and was quickly 
corrupted, the more easily from the quickness of his parts 
and adaptability of his temper. The King allowed more 
latitude, perhaps, to him, than to any other courtier, in 
shameless actions, and impudent words. He was the 
author of the famous lines : 

" Here lies our sovereign lord the King, 
Whose word no man relies on ; 
Who never said a foolish thing, 
And never did a wise one." 

to which Charles replied : " That is easily explained ; my 
words are my own, but my actions are my ministers' ! " 
Rochester wrote such scurrilous libels on the King (" a 
merry monarch, scandalous and poor," is the mildest thing 
he says), that he was often banished the Court ; during 
one of these exiles he set up as an astrologer in Tower 
Street, and was resorted to by all the Court ladies and 
ladies'-maids, whom he astonished by the accuracy of his 
diagnoses and prophecies : on another occasion he and 
Buckingham kept the " Green Mare " inn near Newmarket, 
and while there debauched the wife of a countryman, thus 
causing her husband to hang himself, and then coolly dis- 
missed the woman to London, to make her fortune there. 
This freak, or, rather, the racy relation of it, restored him 
to favour at Court. The following conversation between 
him and the King well illustrates their relations : " Last 
night I supt at Lord Rochester's, with a select company ; 
on such occasions he is not ambitious of shining ; he is 
rather pleasant than arch ; he is comparatively reserved, 
but you find something in that restraint that is more agree- 
able than the utmost exertion of talent in others. . . . 
The most perfect good humour was supported through the 
whole evening, nor was it in the least disturbed when, 


unexpectedly, towards the end of it, the King came in : 
' Something has vext him,' said Rochester ; ' he never does 
me this honour but when he is in an ill humour.' ' How 
the devil have I got here? The knaves have sold every 
cloak in the wardrobe.' ' Those knaves are fools. That 
is a part of dress, which, for their own sakes, your Majesty 
ought never to be without.' ' Pshaw ! I'm vext.' ' I hate 
still life I am glad of it. Your Majesty is never so enter- 
taining as when ' Ridiculous ! I believe the English 

are the most intractable people upon earth.' ' I must 
humbly beg your Majesty's pardon, if I presume in that 
respect.' ' You would find them so, were you in my place, 
and obliged to govern.' ' Were I in your Majesty's place, 
I would not govern at all.' ' How then ? ' * I would 
send for my good Lord Rochester, and command him to 
govern.' ' But the singular modesty of that nobleman ? ' 
* He would certainly conform himself to your Majesty's 
bright example. How gloriously would the two grand 
social virtues flourish under his auspices ! ' ' O prisca 
fides ! what can these be ? ' ' The love of wine and 
women, God bless your Majesty, these attachments 
keep the world in good humour, and therefore I say they 
are social virtues. Let the Bishop of Salisbury deny it if 
he can.' ' He died last night. Have you a mind to 
succeed him ? ' ' On condition that I shall neither be 
called upon to preach on 30 January or 29 May.' ' Those 
conditions are curious. You object to the first, I sup- 
pose, because it would be a melancholy subject ; but the 

other ' ' Would be a melancholy subject too.' ' That 

is too much.' ' Nay, I only mean that the business would 
be a little too grave for the day. Nothing but the in- 
dulgence of the grand social virtues could be a testimony 
for my joy upon that occasion.' ' Thou art the happiest 
fellow in my dominions. Let me perish if I do not envy 
thee thy impudence.' " 

Rochester was of a handsome but peevish, weary-look- 
ing face, and graceful person ; somewhat careful of his 


dress. One of his most serious disgraces at Court was 
caused by his abduction of the heiress Elizabeth Malet, 
who, however, afterwards married him. He did not agree 
perfectly with his wife, and his letters to her show some- 
thing of his feelings towards her and the country life : 
" Run away like a rascal without taking leave, dear wife, 
it is an impolite way of proceeding which a modest man 
ought to be ashamed of. I have left you a prey to your 
own imaginations amongst my relations, the worst of 
damnations ; but there will come an hour of deliverance, 
till when, may my mother be merciful to you ; so I com- 
mit you to what shall ensue, woman to woman, wife to 
mother, in hopes of a future appearance in glory." . . . 
" You must, I think, obey my mother in her commands to 
wait on her at Aylesbury, as I told you in my last letter 
I will only desire you not to be ; too much amazed at the 
thoughts my mother has of you, since being mere imagina- 
tions, they will as easily vanish, as they were groundlessly 
erected ; for 'my own part, I will make it my endeavour 
they may." ..." My Wife, . . . The difficulties of pleas- 
ing your ladyship do increase so fast upon me, and are 
grown so numerous, that to a man less resolved than 
myself never to give it over, it would appear a madness 
ever to attempt it more ; but through your frailties mine 
ought not to multiply ; you may, therefore, secure yourself 
that it will not be easy for you to put me out of my con- 
stant resolutions to satisfy you in all I can. I confess 
there is nothing will so much contribute to my assistance 
in this as your dealing freely with me ; for since you have 
thought it a wise thing to trust me less and have reserves, 
it has been out of my power to make the best of my pro- 
ceedings effectual to what I intended them. At a distance 
I am likeliest to learn your mind, for you have not a very 
obliging way of delivering it by word of mouth ; if, there- 
fore, you will let me know the particulars in which I may 
be useful to you, I will show my readiness as to my own 
part ; and if I fail of the success I wish, it shall not be the 


fault of your humble servant Rochester." To his little 
son he writes : "Avoid idleness, scorn lying, and God will 
bless you. . . . Dear child, learn your book, and be 
obedient, and you shall see what a father I will be to you." 
Lady Rochester seems to have preferred the country to 
the town, and; Rochester himself only used the country 
as a retirement in exile, wherein to write satires and 
libels. " Lady Rochester kept my brother's birthday with 
great solemnity, causing the bells to be rung, and making 
a great dinner. We concluded it by dancing 16 dances 
after supper, and because the weather was hot, we danced 
some of them in the fore-court, some in the garden, and 
the rest in the hall." For a mercurial courtier like 
Rochester, country life appeared terribly dull ; a round of 
hawking, hunting, and formal visits, and entertainments 
of neighbouring squires, and occasional tenants' dinners. 
Rochester is said to have distinguished himself in the 
second Dutch war, but afterwards lost his reputation for 
courage through an obscure affair with John Sheffield, 
Earl of Mulgrave. Gilbert Burnet wrote Rochester's 
biography, and says of him in that and in the " History " : 
" His wit had a peculiar brightness ; he seemed to affect 
something singular and paradoxical in his impieties, as 
well as in his writings, above the reach and thought of 
other men. . . . He was for some years always drunk, and 
was ever doing some mischief. The King loved his com- 
pany for the diversion it afforded, better than his person, 
and there was no love lost between them. . . . Sedley had 
a more sudden and copious wit, which furnished a per- 
petual run of discourse, but it was not so correct as Lord 
Dorset's, nor so sparkling as Lord Rochester's." Rochester 
died in 1680, and two of his last letters show an admirable 
contrast between the styles of a man writing to a friend, 
and to his priest when at the point of death. " It is a 
miraculous thing (as the wise have it), when a man half 
in the grave, cannot leave off playing the fool and the 
but so it falls out in my comfort. For this 




moment I am in a damned relapse, brought by a fever, 
the stone, and some other ten diseases more, which have 
deprived me of the power of crawling, which I happily 
enjoyed some days ago ; and now I fear I must fall, that 
it may be fulfilled which was long since written in the 
good old ballad 

' But he who lives not wise and sober, 
Falls with the leaf still in October.' 


About which time, in all probability, there may be a 
period added to the ridiculous being of your humble 
servant, Rochester." " Woodstock Park, Oxfordshire. My 
most honoured Dr. Burnet, My spirits and body decay so 
equally together, that I shall write you a letter, as weak 
as I am in person. I begin to value Churchmen above all 
men in the world, &c. If God be yet pleased to spare me 
longer in this world, I hope in your conversation to be 
exalted to that degree of piety that the world may see 
how much I abhor what I so long loved, and how much 
I glory in repentance and in God's service. Bestow your 
prayers upon me, that God would spare me, if it be His 
good will, to shew a true repentance and amendment of 
life for the time to come ; or else, if the Lord pleaseth to 
put an end to my worldly being now, that He would merci- 
fully accept of my death-bed repentance, and perform that 
promise that He hath been pleased to make, that, at what 
time soever a sinner doth repent, He would receive him. 
Put up these prayers, most dear Doctor, to Almighty God, 
for your Most obedient and languishing servant, Rochester, 
25 June, 1680." 

Sedley wrote several plays, of which the "Mulberry 
Garden " is the best ; but his songs, set to exquisite music 
by Purcell, are better known : " Phillis is my only Joy, 
Faithless as the Wind and Seas " ; " Phillis, without Frown 
or Smile, Sat and knotted all the while " ; " Love still has 
something of the Sea From whence his Mother rose " ; 
and finally : 


" Not, Celia, that I juster am, 
Or better than the rest, 
For I would change each hour like them, 
Were not my heart at rest. 
But I am tied to very thee 
By every Thought I have, 
Thy Face I only care to see, 
Thy Heart I only crave. 
All that in woman is ador'd 
In thy dear Self I find, 
For the whole Sex can but afford 
The handsome and the kind. 
Why then should I seek farther Store, 
And still make Love anew ? 
When Change itself can give no more, 
'Tis easy to be true." 

One or two of his witty remarks have come down to us : 
when his play " Bellamira ; or the Mistress " was being 
acted, the theatre roof fell in, injuring Sedley and others ; 
Sir Fleetwood Shepherd said the play was so full of fire 
that it blew up the poet, theatre, and audience. "No," 
replied Sedley, " it was so heavy that it brought down the 
house and buried the poet in his own rubbish." When 
Sedley had voted for William of Orange, he said, " James 
made my daughter a Countess, and I have made his 
daughter a^Queen." Rochester said of his verses : 

" Sedley has that prevailing, gentle art, 
That can with a resistless charm impart 
The basest wishes to the chastest heart." 

Rochester's best-known pieces are perhaps his "Allusion 
to Horace" and "On Nothing" ; but though the majority 
of his poems are either silly or bestial, some verses of great 
beauty deserve reprinting : 

" Absent from thee I languish still, 
Then ask me not, when I return ? 
The straying Fool 'twill plainly kill 
To wish all Day, all Night to mourn. 


" Dear, from thine Arms then let me fly, 
That my fantastic Mind may prove 
The Torments it deserves to try, 
That tears my fixed Heart from my Love. 

" When wearied with a World of Woe, 
To thy safe Bosom I retire, 
Where Love, and Peace, and Honour flow, 
May I, contented, there expire. 

" Lest once more wandering from that Heaven, 
I fall on some base Heart unblest, 
Faithless to thee, false, unforgiven, 
And lose my everlasting Rest." 

Lord Buckhurst, afterwards Earl of Dorset, is remem- 
bered as the first keeper of Nell Gwyn, for a brief July in 
1667 at Epsom, as the dedicatee of Dryden's "Essay on 
Dramatic Poesy " (wherein he figures as Eugenius), as the 
companion of Sedley in one or two drunken extravagances 
at the " Cock " in Bow Street, and as author of the song 
from the fleet in 1665 "To all you ladies now on land." 
He was reputed the best-bred man in England, and 
Rochester calls him " the best-natured man with the worst- 
natured muse," in allusion to his real kindness and affa- 
bility, and his stinging tongue and pen, when occasion for 
satire appeared. Among the "mob of gentlemen who 
wrote with ease," were Sir George Etheredge, Lord Orrery, 
Sir Robert Howard, the Earl of Roscommon, and a host of 

But it is time to turn to the few statesmen or respect- 
able persons among the men whom we have not hitherto 
considered. Clarendon, Ormond, Arlington, and New- 
castle we know ; but Prince Rupert is at Court, and claims 
our notice. He employs his time in naval matters, in 
tennis, and mezzotint engraving ; on one occasion he 
heads a deputation of petitioners ; and has, it is said, lost 
much of the King's love, which was all his, during the 
Civil War. He seems woefully out of place in the circle 
of water-flies at Court, and most of the courtiers fear and 


dislike him. " He was brave and courageous, even to rash- 
ness, but cross-grained and incorrigibly obstinate: his 
genius was fertile in mathematical experiments, and he 
possessed some knowledge of Chemistry ; he was polite, 
even to excess, unreasonably ; but haughty, and even 
brutal, when he ought to have been gentle and courteous ; 
he was tall and his manners were ungracious : he had a 
dry, hard-favoured visage, and a stern look, even when he 
wisht to please ; but, when he was out of humour, his 
countenance was forbidding. . . . He loved not debate ; 
liked what was proposed as he liked the persons who pro- 
posed it. ... He died in 1682 and the Court went to see 
a play on the night of his burial." The Duke of Newcastle 
retired from Court life after the Restoration, and devoted 
himself to encouraging horse-racing in his own district, 
and writing plays ; while his wife wrote in her curious but 
often charming style, about her adored husband, about 
literary criticism, philosophy, mechanics, religion, and 
everything else, being a very female Sir Positive At-All 
She caused her maids to arise at any hour of the night to 
transcribe her thoughts, and was no less fantastic in her 
dress than in her style. " The whole story of this lady is 
a romance, and all she does is romantic; her coach is 
always followed by children and citizens of all ages, even 
by the courtiers, who desire to look upon this lady in her 
antique dress ; with velvet cap, her hair about her ears, 
many black patches because of pimples about her mouth ; 
naked-necked, without anything about it, and a black 
j us t-au- corps ; dark, with good little eyes ; sings well, and 
hath been a good comely woman ; her footmen all in 
velvet, her coach black and silver, with white curtains." 

The two Duchesses of York were vastly different both 
in character and popularity. Anne Hyde was a clever, 
wasteful, but good-natured woman, addicted to the pleasures 
of the table, and, according to well - supported Court 
scandal, not averse to one or two of the Court gallants. 
She began to write her husband's memoirs, and always 


ruled him, save in the matter of religion, wherein she was 
converted to Catholicism. Maria of Modena, " the princess 
with the golden locks," came over young and fresh from a 
convent, but won all hearts, however prejudiced against 
her by reason of her religion, by her sweetness and 
courtesy ; while her predecessor had alienated many by 
her extreme haughtiness. " The Duchess is much delighted 
with making and throwing of snowballs, and pelted the 
Duke soundly with one the other day and ran away quick 
into her closet and he after her, but she durst not open the 
doors. She hath also great pleasure in one of those sledges 
which they call Trainias, and is pulled up and down the 
ponds in them every day, as also the King, which are 
counted dangerous things, and none can drive the horse 
which draws them about, but the Duke of Monmouth, Mr. 
Griffin, and Mr. Godolphin, and a fourth whose name I 
have forgott." Lady Vaughan says of Maria d'Este that 
" she had more wit and as much beauty as ever woman 
had before." " She was very thin, with a long face, bright 
eyes, large white teeth, and a pale complexion which 
shewed all the more because she never used rouge. She 
had an agreeable presence, and was very clean. . . . She 
was good to the poor, and never spoke unkindly to any 
one. She had great fineness of character, and truly royal 
qualities, much generosity, courtesy, and judgement. Her 
only failing was her extreme piety." She knew Latin and 
French well, and learnt English very quickly. 

Barbara, daughter of Viscount Grandison, was born in 
1640 and died in 1709, and her long life was sufficiently 
varied in its experiences. In 1666 Harry Killegrew was 
banished for saying that she had been " a little lecherous 
girl," a very plausible statement. From 1655 she carried 
on a hot amour with Philip Stanhope, second Earl of 
Chesterfield, and many of their love-letters survive, of 
which it is enough to quote the following example : " My 
Lord, the joy I had of being with you the last night, 
has made me doe nothing but dream of you ; yet the 


discourses of the world must make me a little more circum- 
spect ; therefore I desire you not to come to-night, but to 
stay till the party be come to town. I will not faile to 
meete you on Sathurday morning till when I remaine your 
humble servant." The intrigue was conducted by Mistress 
Barbara with perfect ease and abandon, and was continued 
after her marriage to Roger Palmer in 1659, in spite of 
what she calls " the mounser's ill humour." In this year, 
Palmer and his wife joined the Court in Holland, and the 
King at once fell to the lady's charms. A month after 
the Restoration Pepys mentions the King and Duke being 
in a house in King Street, Westminster, with " Madame 
Palmer, a pretty woman that they have a fancy to, to 
make her husband a cuckold." Pepys later came under 
Mrs. Palmer's charm himself, and showed strong symptoms 
of erotic fetichism. " In the Privy Garden saw the finest 
smocks and linnen petticoats of my Lady Castlemaine's 
laced with rich lace at the bottom, that ever I saw ; and 
did me good to look upon them." Petticoats and smocks 
played great parts at court then, and later we find Nell 
Gwyn carefully showing the French Ambassador and 
several others, all the petticoats she was then wearing ; 
and it is said that by contriving to steal and wear a fine 
laced smock of the Duchess of Portsmouth, she stole the 
King from that lady also, for the night. Always before 
the Queen's arrival, and frequently afterwards, the King 
dined and supped with Barbara ; and the day of the 
Queen's arrival, when bonfires burnt at every door, there 
was none at hers, where the King was. She was never 
popular with the people, and in the absence of the King, 
was slighted at the Play ; once she was met by three 
masked gentlemen, who told her Jane Shore rotted on a 
dunghill, and sent her home in a fainting condition ; 
Charles' angry endeavours to secure the men were vain. 
Till about the middle of 1663, Lady Castlemaine kept 
undisputed sway over Charles, even receiving the Christmas 
presents made by the Peers to the King. But in 1663 


Charles fell in love with Frances Stewart, and refused 
to visit the Castlemaine unless "la belle Stuard" were 
with her ; and Barbara had herself to thank, in part, for 
this, as she had frequently allowed the King to see her 
and Frances abed together in the mornings. Nevertheless, 
Charles still supped with her, and so forth, and not till 1666 
did he bid her leave Court, the immediate cause being that 
the King heard his wife say to the Countess, "she was 
afraid the King caught cold by staying abroad so late at 
her house," to which the mistress replied that his Majesty 
did not stay late with her, " but must stay somewhere else." 
When she sent to ask if she might remove her goods, 
the King bade her come and inspect them, and a recon- 
ciliation was effected, and he paid her debts up to 30,000. 
In return for the King's infatuation for Frances Stewart and 
others, Lady Castlemaine accepted the love of Sir Charles 
Berkeley, Colonel James Hamilton, Lord Sandwich, Harry 
Jermyn, Jack Churchill, Wycherley the dramatist, Charles 
Hart the actor, and Jacob Hill the rope-dancer, to say 
nothing of her footmen. In 1670 she was created Baroness 
Nonsuch, Countess of Southampton, and Duchess of Cleve- 
land ; in 1674, she resigned her position as Lady of the 
Bedchamber, in compliance with the Test Act ; for she had 
become a Catholic in 1663, as Nell Gwyn did in 1686. 
The Comte d'Estrades, writing to Louis XIV in 1663, tells 
of Barbara's conversion. " Le mariage du Chevalier de 
Gramont et la conversion de Mme. de Castlemaine se sont 
publiez le meme jour ; et le Roy d'Angleterre estant tant 
prie par les parents de la Dame d'apporter quelque obstacle 
a cette action, repondit galamment que, pour Tame des 
Dames, il ne s'en meloit point." Shortly after 1674, she 
went to Paris, where Ralph Montagu and the Marquis de 
Chastillon became rivals for her favours. However she 
soon returned and continued to have money lavished on 
her. In 1705, on her husband's death, she married Beau 
Fielding ; and Goodman the actor was one of the last of 
her lovers. She died at Walpole House, the Mall, Chiswick, 


in 1709. From first to last she showed all the traits of a 
born courtesan, for besides her amours, she was at once 
rapacious and profuse, loved splendid entertainments, and 
had a passion for gaming, where she sometimes staked 
^"1500 at a throw, and once lost ^"25,000 in a night. She 
had few brains and no self-control, but splendid physical 
beauty and vigour : her furious and reckless temper was one 
of the chief sources of her ascendency over the peace-loving 
King. She never troubled to conceal her jealousy of rivals, 
and once threatened the King that she would take their 
youngest child and dash out its brains before him, if he did 
not kneel and beg her pardon. Charles, however, never 
suffered Barbara to influence him in serious politics, unless 
his own previous inclination had tended in the same direc- 
tion, as in the disgrace of Clarendon. 

Her eldest child, Anne FitzRoy, Countess of Sussex, 
was acknowledged by the King and by Palmer, and was 
thought to be most like Chesterfield. In after years this 
young lady had lodgings at Whitehall, above the King's 
rooms, being a favourite of her father's ; and at Court 
she played many pranks with her friend the Duchesse 
Mazarin. On one occasion the ladies, who had learnt 
fencing, appeared in the Park in the evening in their 
dressing-gowns, and gave a fencing display to admiring 
gallants. Her husband objected to her friendship with the 
Mazarin, and they separated ; the Countess going to the 
Monastery of Conflans, where her behaviour, sanctioned, how- 
ever, by Charles, disturbed her mother so much as to cause 
her to write several letters on the subject. Charles had 
ceased to care for the mother, saying, " Madam, all I ask of 
you for your own sake is, live so for the future as to make the 
least noise you can, and I care not who you love ; " but he 
was very glad to get the daughter back to England as soon as 
possible. The Countess of Lichfield, her younger daughter, 
was frequently visited by her father at Ditchley Park, and 
had a special armchair made for him there. The follow- 
ing is a letter from Charles to her : " Whitehall, 2 October. 


I have had so much business since I came hither that I 
hope you will not thinke that I have neglected writing to 
you out of want of kindness to my deare Charlotte. I am 
going to Newmarket to-morrow, and have a great deal of 
businesse to dispatch to-night. Therefore I will only tell 
you now that I have 500 guniyes for you w ch shall be ether 
delivered to yourself, or any who you shall appointe to 
receave it, and so, my dear Charlotte, be assured that I love 
you with all my harte, being your kinde father, C. R." 

We have said that the Duchess Mazarin was the chief 
friend of Charles' daughter. She was also for a short time 
the reigning favourite of Charles himself. The niece of 
Cardinal Mazarin, and asked in marriage of her uncle 
by the King of England in 1659, s ^ e eventually married a 
French nobleman wholly unsuited to her, and after many 
wild escapades came to England in 1675, landed at 
Torbay, and rode to London in man's attire. Here St- 
Evremond managed her affairs, while she lived at St. 
James', with her friend and relative, Mary of Modena. 
She was always a reckless gambler, both at the card-table 
and in the world, but she contrived to keep up appearances 
and a basset-table, almost to her death in 1699, when her 
body was seized by her creditors. In 1676 she began to 
attract the King's especial regard, and Courtin writes in 
July to Pomponne that Charles is always meeting her 
in the Countess of Sussex's rooms in Whitehall. In 
July also, Nell Gwyn went into mourning for the 
Duchess of Portsmouth's dead hopes. The three letters, 
two of Courtin, the third of Barillon, which chiefly concern 
Mme. Mazarin, are these: "27 dec, 1676: A 1'egard 
de Mme. Mazarin, la seule chose que je sgais, c'est que 
le Roi decouche fort souvent, et qu'il ne revient qu'a cinq 
heures du matin se remettre dans son lit. Les courtisans 
les plus eclaires ne croient pas qu'il passe ses nuits chez 
Mme. de P. II lui donne toutes les apparences pendant 
le jour, mais il se reserve la liberte de passer la nuit avec 
qui bon lui semble." (Courtin a Louvois.) 


"4 Mars, 1677: Mme. Mazarin a este depuis trois 
heures jusqu'a sept avec le Roy; il y a deux apparte- 
raens qui tiennent au sien ou Ton entre par plusieurs 
portes differentes, dont il n'y a que lui et un valet de chambre 
de confiance qui aient le clef." (Courtin a Pomponne.) 

" La passion du jeu qui 1'envahit peu a peu tout, 
entiere ne donnait pas moins de dpit a St.-Evremond. II 
fait remonter a 1682, annee de la preponderance definitive 
de la Duchesse de Portsmouth, la passion de sa rivale 
pour la bassette. Elle passe les nuits a tailler la banque, 
elle oublie son bouffon Maurice, son chien Chop, son chat 
Pussy, et son perroquet Pretty. Le jour, elle va en bateau 
sur la Tamise acheter des curiositds aux vaisseaux qui 
reviennent des Indes. Les journees pass^es aux courses de 
Newmarket sont moins monotones : on est a cheval des 
cinq heures du matin, on entend le soir les drames de 
Shakespeare ; mais, au gout de St.-Evremond, toutes les 
pieces de ces temps la sont fort ennuyeuses ; la nuit, 
souper aux huitres. Mme. Mazarin est toujours entouree 
d'un cercle d'adoratrices ; outre Mme. Harvey, elle tient 
sous son charme mile, de Beverweert-Nassau, qu'elle 
nomme Lottee et qui est charged de la servir a sa toilette. 
Elle a encore parmi ses suivantes mile, de Bragelone, la 
Brenier, et mile, de la Roche-Guilhem, qui ecrit des 
romans. Toute lutte a cess6 centre la triomphante 
Portsmouth." (Barillon.) 

Mme. Mazarin would seem to have possessed certain 
masculine qualities which appealed strongly to her own 
sex ; for this is only one of many references to her 
entourage of women. 

Charles' vagrant fancy rested upon such other ladies as 
Catherine Peg, wife of Sir Edward Green, Bt, by whom 
he had Charles Fitzcharles, otherwise called Don Carlos, 
mentioned in 1672 as "a finely bred youth, with a great 
deal of witt." Moll Davies the actress reigned for a short 
time. But the only other important mistresses are the 
Duchess of Portsmouth and Nell Gwyn. The King was 


attracted by Louise de Keroiialle, his sister's Breton maid- 
of-honour, in 1669, but Henrietta refused to allow the girl 
to stay in England. In 1670, however, Louise came over 
again, this time as a secret agent of Louis XIV, nominally 
as maid-of-honour to the English Queen. In September, 
Charles is said to be always finding opportunities to talk 
with her in the Queen's room, but not yet to have chatted 
in her own. In November, 1670, Evelyn describes her as 
" of a childish, simple, and baby face." Yet this childish 
and simple-looking beauty ruled King Charles for a longer 
time, and with a more extensive jurisdiction, than any 
other of his mistresses, though he tired of her physical 
charms towards the end of his life. She was clever, an 
apt pupil of French intrigue, and one of the few gentle- 
women, both by birth and nature, among Charles' favourites. 
In October, 1671, Colbert says that the King shows great 
passion for her, and has given her a finely furnished set of 
lodgings in Whitehall. " His Majesty goes to her rooms 
at nine o'clock every evening," staying till ten or eleven. 
" He returns after dinner, and shares in all her stakes and 
losses at cards, never letting her want for anything. I 
believe I can assure you that she has so got round King 
Charles as to be of the greatest service to our sovereign 
and master, if she only does her duty." Later in the 
same month, Colbert notes the King's careful and lover- 
like behaviour to Louise at Newmarket. It was in this 
month also that she probably became an actual mistress 
of the King's, at Euston, "and stocking flung after the 
manner of a married bride," In January, 1672, "Md Ue- 
K.eerwell is infinitely in favour, and to say truth, she seems 
as well to deserve it, for she is wondrous handsome, and 
they say, as much witt and addresse as ever anybody 
had." In 1673, she was created Duchess of Portsmouth, 
and in 1675 her son by Charles was made Duke of 
Richmond. She died in 1734, aged eighty-five. 

The Breton mistress always figured more often and 
more significantly in Court life than the Cleveland or Nell 


Gwyn, and really did have some slight influence in political 
matters. She possessed manners and discretion, besides 
personal charm, and her sway as maitresse des mattresses 
was only questioned for a short time in 1676 by the 
Duchess Mazarin. Lastly, in this procession of filles d& 
joie comes the one who alone of them all, has won the 
esteem and the affection of Englishmen, both in her life and 
ever since her death Nell Gwyn, "Sweet Nell of old 
Drury." There is no need or possibility to discuss here 
the moral aspect of the question ; but there is no doubt 
that Nelly's popularity had a true and firm foundation 
first because she was a Protestant Englishwoman, in con- 
trast to Madam Carwell, but afterwards, as she became 
better known, because of certain qualities of honesty, faith- 
fulness, and warm-hearted merriment, that appealed to all. 
She was born in February, 1651, either in Hereford or 
London. Her mother, always among the dregs of the 
people, died in 1679 by drowning herself while drunk. 
Nelly was brought up in a brothel, to fill strong waters to 
the gentlemen, and later became an orange-girl at the 
theatre, and later still an actress. She first appeared at 
Drury Lane in 1665, as Cydaria in Dryden's " Indian 
Emperor," a serious part, and therefore unsuited for her. 
As Florimel in Dryden's " Secret Love," in March, 
1667, she won much more approval. In July, 1667, 
she became the mistress of Lord Buckhurst, and went with 
him to Epsom, with an allowance of ;ioo a year, 
but in August she was back at the King's theatre, and in 
January, 1668, "the King did send several times for Nelly, 
and she was with him " ; though she may have completed 
his enslavement by her delivery of the Epilogue to 
Dryden's " Tyrannic Love " in I668-69. 1 It is probable 

1 Spoken by Mrs. Ellen when she was to be carried off dead by the 

To the Bearer. 

" Hold, are you mad, you damn'd confounded dog? 
I am to rise, and speak the epilogue." 


that she permanently retired from the stage in 1670. She 
lived in Drury Lane, where Pepys saw her standing at her 
door, and thought her " a mighty pretty creature in 
her smock-sleeves and bodice." Afterwards she lived in 
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, where her first son by the King was 
born ; then on the north side of Pall Mall, and finally, till 
her death in 1687, at No. 79 (now the Eagle Insurance 
Office) ; where her second son, James Lord Beauclerc, was 
born, 25 December, 1671. Her impudence and unfailing 
good humour recommended her to the King, and she 
endeared herself to him by the real honesty of her nature 
and her love for him as a man, which was perhaps not 
shared by any other of the mistresses. Almost as many 
of her witty or sharp retorts survive, as of the King's. The 
Oxford mob once began to stone her carriage, believing 
it to be Carwell's : Nell only put out her head, saying, 
" Don't hurt me, good people ! I am the Protestant whore." 
When the King visited her on one occasion, she called her 
boy to her, saying, " Come hither, bastard," and when the 
King expostulated, said she had no better name to call 
him by, whereupon the King created him Earl of Burford. 
To a courtier soliciting her favours she remarked that " she 
was not so poor a sportsman as to lay the dog where the 
deer had lain." She was an admirable mimic of the King 
and others, and utterly fearless of rivals or of great men, 
being annihilatingly quick in retort. She called Mon- 
mouth " Prince Perkin," and on his calling her " ill-bred," 
said, " Was Mrs. Barlow any better bred than I ? " When 
the Duchess of Portsmouth went into mourning for her 
alleged cousin, the Frince de Rohan, Nell did the same for 
the Cham of Tartary, and when asked what relation he 
was to her, answered : " Exactly the same relation that 
the Prince de Rohan was to the Duchess of Portsmouth." 
She retained her fluency of epithet and invective and the 
Carwell once said of her, " Any one can tell she has been 
an orange-wench, by her swearing." Some of her letters 
are fortunately preserved : (August, 1678) " Pray deare 


Mr. Hide [Lawrence H.] forgive me for not writing to you 
before now, for the reason is I have bin sick thre months, 
and sinse I recovered I have had nothing to intertaine 
you withall, nor have nothing now worth writing, 
but that I can holde no longer to let you know 
I never have ben in any companie wethout drinking 
your health, for I love you with all my soule. The pel 
mel is now to me a dismale place since I have utterly lost 
Sr. Car Scrope never to be recoverd agane, for he tould me 
he could not live alwayes at this rate, and so begune to be 
a littel uncivil, which I could not sufer from an uglye baux 
garscon. Mrs. Knight's lady mother's dead, and she has 
put up a scutchin no beiger then my Lady Orin's scunchis. 
My lord Rochester is gone in the cuntrei. Mr. Savil has 
got a misfortune, but is upon recovery and is to mary an 
hairess, who I think wont wont \sic\ have an ill time ont if 
he holds up his thumb. My lord of Dorscit apiers worze 
in thre months for he drinkes aile with Shadwell and Mr. 
Haris at the Duke's home [house ?] all day long. My lord 
Burford remimbers his sarvis to you. My Lord Bauclaire 
is is \sic\ goeing into france. We are agoeing to supe 
with the King at Whithall and my lady Harvie. The 
King remembers his sarvis to you. Now lets talk of state 
affairs, for we never caried things so cunningly as now, for 
we don't know whether we shall have peace or war, but I 
am for war, and for no other reason but that you may come 
home. I have a thousand merry conseets, but I can't make 
her write me, and therefore you must take the will for the 
deed. God bye. Your most loveing obedient faithfull and 
humbel sarvant, E. G." Again : " These for Madam 
Jennings over against the Tub Tavern in Jermyn St., Lon- 
don. Windsor, Burford House, April 14, 1684 : Madam, 
I have received y r Letter, and I desire y u would speake to 
my Ladie Williams to send me the Gold Stuffe, and 
a Note with it, because I must sign it, then she shall 
have her money y e next Day of M r . Trant ; pray tell her 
Ladieship that I will send her a Note of what Quantity of 


Things I'le have bought, if her Ladieship will put herselfe 
to y e trouble to buy them ; when they are bought I will 
sign a Note for her to be payd. Pray Madam, let y e Man 
goe on with my Sedan, and send Potvin and Mr. Coxer 
down to me, for I want them both. The Bill is very dear 
to boyle the Plate, but necessity hath noe Law. I am 
afraid M m , you have forgott my Mantle, which you were 
to line with Musk Colour Sattin, and all my other Things, 
for you send me noe Patterns nor Answer. Monsieur 
Lainey is going away. Pray send me word about your 
son Griffin, for his Majestie is mighty well pleased that he 
will goe along with my Lord Duke. I am afraid you are 
so much taken up with your owne House, that you forget 
my Business. My service to dear Lord Kildare, and tell 
him I love him with all my heart. Pray M . see that 
Potvin brings now all my Things with him ; My Lord 
Duke's bed, &c., if he hath not made them all up, he may 
doe that there, for if I doe not get my Things out of his 
Hands now, I shall not have them until this time twelve- 
month. The Duke brought me down with him my Crochet 
of Diamonds ; and I love it the better because he brought 
it Mr. Lumley and everie body else will tell you that it 
is the finest Thing that ever was seen. Good M m speake 
to Mr. Beaver to come down too, that I may bespeake 
a Ring for the Duke of Grafton before he goes into France. 
I have continued extreme ill ever since you left me, and I 
am soe still. I have sent to London for a Dr. I believe 
I shall die. My service to the Duchess of Norfolk, and tell 
her, I am as sick as her Grace, but do not know what I ayle, 
although shee does. . . . Pray tell my Ladie Williams that 
the King's Mistresses are accounted ill paymasters, but 
shee shall have her Money the next D ay after I have the 
stuffe. Here is a sad slaughter at Windsor, the young 
mens taking y r Leaves and going to France, and, although 
they are none of my Lovers, yet I am loath to part with 
the men. Mrs. Jennings, I love you with all my Heart 
and soe good bye. E. G. Let me have an Answer to this 


Letter." The next two letters are addressed to James II, 
and have an honester ring than most letters similar in 
subject : " Had I sufered for my God as I have don for y r 
brother and y u , I shuld not have needed ether of y r kindnes 
or justis to me. I beseech you not to doe anything to the 
settling of buisines till I speake w th you, and apoynt me by 
Mr. Grahams when I may speake with you privetly. God 
make you as happy as my soule prayes you may be, y rs ." 
" S r , this world is not capable of giving me a greater joy 
and happynes then y r Ma ties favour, not as you are King 
and soe have it y r power to doe me good, having never 
loved y brother and y selfe upon that acount, but as to y r 
persons. Had hee lived, hee tould me before hee dyed, 
that the world shuld see by what hee did for me that hee 
had both love and value for me, and that hee did not doe 
for me as my mad Lady Woster. Hee was my frind * and 
allowed me to tell him all my grifes, and did like a frind l 
advise me and tould me who was my frind l and who was 
not. Sy the honour y r Ma tie has don me by Mr. Grahams 
has given me great comfort, not by the present you sent 
me to releeve me out of the last extremety, but by the 
kind expressions hee made me from you of y r kindnes 
to me, w ch to me is above al things in this world, having, 
God knows, never loved y brother or yr selfe interestedly. 
All you doe for me shall be yours, it being my resolution 
never to have any interest but y rs , and as long as I live to 
serve you, and when I dye to dye for y u ." In November, 
1687, "pretty witty Nelly" died, aged 36; and the only 
popular mistress of the King, and the only one unchanged 
and unspoilt by her sudden rise in the world ; even her 
clothes "she continued to hang on ... with her usual 
negligence when she was the King's mistress, but whatever 
she did became her." We cannot do better than conclude 
this necessarily brief and arid account of Nell Gwyn by 
quoting, first the words of Wheatley, " that there is little 
to be said of her character, for the public has made up its 

1 Charles' own characteristic spelling. 


mind on this point," and the sonnet of Swinburne which 
here follows. 

" Sweet heart, that no taint of a throne or the stage 
Could touch with unclean transformation, or alter 
To the likeness of courtiers whose consciences falter 
At the smile or the frown, at the mirth or the rage, 
Of a master whom chance could inflame or assuage, 
Our Lady of Laughter, invoked in no psalter, 
Adored of no faithful that cringe and that palter, 
Praise be with thee yet, from a hag-ridden age. 
Our Lady of Pity thou wast : and to thee 
All England, whose sons are the sons of the sea, 
Gives thanks, and will hear not if history snarls 
When the name of the friend of her sailors is spoken ; 
And thy lover she cannot but love by the token 
That thy name was the last on the lips of King Charles." 1 

More nonsense has been written on the subject of 
Charles II, and especially on Charles as King and 
Politician, than, perhaps, on any other subject in English 
history. The causes whereof, or some of them, are not 
far to seek. First, ignorance ; second, prejudice ; third, 
inability or refusal to take a view of the man and his 
doings as a whole. No one has ever written of the Stuarts 
with moderation and balance, any more than I write of them 
now with temperate and unbiassed mind. It is impossible 
to do so ; for whatever a writer's opinions of them may be, 
they are necessarily forcible and decisive. " Never mind 
if they 'ates yer, sir ; but it's mortal bad if they despises 
yer," was said to a notable nineteenth-century Churchman, 
in the anxious early days of a pet scheme ; and the Stuarts 
have certainly never been despised : nor has Charles II 
ever been really contemned : many writers, especially, be it 
noted, the historians, affect to despise him ; but the very 
volume and venom of the words in which they do it, prove 
only hatred and fear, not contempt : he is taken as the 
example of certain political vices which they assume to have 
been the basis and root of his nature and policy, and they 

1 Collected Works, iij. 259. 


construct a creature for whom the Merry Monarch himself 
could not have found a laugh or an excuse. The fact 
remains, that he was one of the astutest and most successful 
politicians who ever sat on the English Throne ; and who 
had our interests at heart, though thwarted at every turn 
by a selfish House of Commons ; one of the earliest of 
our Kings with an Imperialist ideal. It is absurd to 
suppose that a man who, from indisputable evidence was 
a lover of the English and the Navy, and who was proud 
to a degree, should have taken the gold of Louis, except 
when all means of getting a fair and legitimate allowance 
from the English Parliament, had failed. We must 
remember, too, the phrase of Tennyson now general through 
repetition, but still true : " that fierce light that beats upon 
a throne " ; rendered doubly fierce, in comparison with that 
which beat upon his predecessors, by the vast number of 
chatty and scandalous memoirs which became the fashion 
about the middle of the seventeenth century. Again 
nearly all those who have written of Charles II persist in 
judging his political actions by the nominal moral standard 
of our day, which was not that of his. One writer at least 
praises Louis XIV for some of the very qualities for which 
he curses Charles II, such as state-craft, power of dissimu- 
lation, and the like : in other words, Le Grand Mbnarque has 
been able to impose his figure upon us, (though outwitted 
by Charles on more than one occasion), and is praised, 
because backed by all France, he succeeded ; while Charles, 
alone, Carolus contra mundiim in politics, is attacked 
because certain people think he failed. Yet he gained the 
main object of his reign absolutism. In many cases, I 
have no doubt that the prejudice against Charles is due to 
his private morals, which have also been represented as much 
blacker and more sordid than they were ; into a moral 
question, I will not enter ; yet, I would say that Charles was 
one of the best men at his Court, bad as he was. Mr. 
Chesterton has pointed out that Charles II, however, like 
most men, he fell and swerved from his ideals, had certain 


definite principles, and taught Englishmen the practice 
and the love of those semi-virtues, included under the 
head of being " a gentleman " in the best modern sense ; 
which, moreover, play such a large part in the happiness or 
misery of everyday life. Charles was no doubt tainted by 
the great vice of the time, affectation : and this made him, 
as it makes many Englishmen to-day, pretend and appear 
to be worse than he really was ; and though this is a poor 
plea, especially for a man in an influential position, it serves 
to remind us that we must not neglect the deeper side of 
his nature, which appeared in his relations with all those who 
loved Charles Stuart, and not Charles, King of Great Britain 
and the rest. Some have excused his subsequent life, 
because of his unfortunate education at home and abroad, 
till 1660: but they also assume too much need for excuse. 
Let us remember his comparatively early death and zealous 
attempts to reign better in his later years. No King has 
ever had fair play from posterity, and I suspect that 
Charles II has had rather less than most English monarchs. 
Let us study not only politics but also private life, and 
not each separately, and there may be some possibility of 
arriving at a fair estimate of a man. Charles was more 
closely and intimately in contact with all grades and kinds of 
his subjects than any previous King, and more of his acts and 
careless words have therefore been reported ; and for every 
careless word he spoke he has been called in judgment 
here, by posterity. I acknowledge that I am a partisan, 
and have always been so, but I have endeavoured to divest 
myself of all prejudice in writing this essay, and I would 
ask others to do the same in judging of its subject. To 
conclude, why is King Charles still, in spite of his 
"treachery," "cowardice," "immorality," and "black- 
guardism," one of the most popular figures among our past 
monarchs, and the one of whom most traits and anecdotes 
have become household words ? Concerning him also, 
the public has made up its mind that he was a very 
pleasant fellow, 


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NOTE A, p. 55. 

WE see from the following letter, supposed to have 
been written by Waller, the poet, to St. Evremond, 
that Charles was not wholly without relaxation or 
amusement during his stay with the Penderels : " I was much 
pleased with a conversation which I overheard a few days ago 
between the King and an honest Worcestershire baronet, who 
was lately elected for a borough in that county. The good- 
natured man came up to take his seat among us, and, as he lived 
in the neighbourhood of the Royal Oak, he supposed that he 
could not pay a better compliment to his Majesty than by 
bringing a branch of his old asylum. ' Who is that antique,' 
said the King, ' with a withered branch in his hand ? ' ' It is 
Sir Thomas , member for .' 

King: " ' Sir Thomas, I am glad to see you. I hope you can 
give a good account of our friends in Worcestershire.' 

Sir T. : " ' I wish I could, please your Majesty, but there is a 
blacksmith's wife.' 

K. : " ' No matter for her. I enquired only after the health 
of your family.' 

SirT.: '"Thank God, in good health. But this woman, 
please your Majesty.' 

K.: "' What of her?' 

Sir T. : " ' Has sworn a child to your Majesty.' 

K. : " ' I am glad of it. I do remember that I met a woman 
when I went a wood-cutting with Farmer Penderel.' 

Sir T. : " ' A rosy complexion, please your Majesty.' 

K. : " ' No matter. What is become of the woman and her 

Sir T.: " ' She is very well taken care of, please your Majesty. 


The churchwardens are my tenants, and I ordered them to allow 
her an upper sheet.' 

K. : " ' Fie ! fie ! ' 

Sir T. : " ' Please your Majesty, I was near losing my election 
by it. Some of that parish were free men, and they said that I, 
as a magistrate, ought to have sent a warrant to your Majesty, and 
give a bond to the parish to pay ten pounds.' 

K. : " ' Why did you not do your duty ? ' 

Sir T. : " ' Because, please your Majesty, I thought it my duty 
not to do it. Your Majesty has been at a great expense of late.' 

K. : " ' True, very true, Sir Thomas. What is that branch in 
your hand ? Some token, I suppose, by which you hold your 

Sir T. : " ' No, 'tis something by which your Majesty holds 
your lands. 'Tis a branch of that blessed oak which preserved 
your Majesty's precious life.' 

K. : " ' This is a wooden compliment ; but it is honest, and 
I thank you for it. You have wit, Sir Thomas ; why do not we 
see you oftener at Court ? ' 

Sir T. : " ' I can do your Majesty much more service in the 
country by keeping up a spirit of loyalty and goodwill towards 
you amongst my neighbours.' 

K. : " ' And how do you manage that point ? ' 

Sir T. : " ' I give them beef, and bid them fall to without the 
long grace of the Roundheads. Then I give 'em strong beer, 
and they cry, " God bless your Majesty." ' 

K. : " ' If that is the toast, Sir Thomas, you are the King ; 
and, in truth, I think you govern them with profound policy. 
Could I adopt the same measures, I should have much less 
trouble ; but there is no finding beef enough for the hungry circle 
which you see there.' 

Sir T. : " ' God bless your Majesty, I have ten fat oxen in 
Worcestershire, and nine of them are very heartily at your 
Majesty's service.' 

" This bountiful offer of the honest baronet's made the King 
laugh so violently that it put an end to the conversation. His 
Majesty told us, with great good-humour, what we had to expect, 
and added that he hoped every member of the House would be 

as ready to give as Sir Thomas , that he might be able to 

find wine for the feast. This is a measure which I will promote 
with all my power, for the King's necessities are truly deplorable. 


Considering his extreme poverty, his good-humour is astonishing j 
I believe there never was a prince at the same time so pleasant 
?.nd so poor." l 

NOTE B, p. 148. 

Pal-Maile, or Pall-Mall, was a game played in a rolled gravel- 
walk, its object being to strike a ball with a boxwood mallet 
through a ring hung about six feet from the ground. The King 
was good at the game, and spent much time and care over the 
proper preparation of the Mall's surface with fine gravel and 
shells. Waller celebrates the King's prowess at the game : 


" Here a well-polish'd Mall give us the joy 
To see our Prince his matchless force employ ; 
He does but touch the flying ball, 
And 'tis already more than half the Mall ; 
And such a fury from his arm has got, 
As if from smoking culverin 'twere shot." 2 

By general consent, the King was one of the four best tennis- 
players in England ; and though Pepys objects to the extravagant 
praise given by spectators to his play, he acknowledges that it is 

Compare a News-letter of June, 1660: "His Majesty's only 
recreation as yet is at tennis by five o'clock in the morning 
for an hour or two." Again : " 5 October [1660 ? Council-Note of 
King to Chancellor]. 8 in the morning. I am going to take my 
vsuall Phisique at tennis, I sende you heere the letters which my 
Lord Aubigny desires me to write, looke them over, and if there 
be no exceptions to them, returne them by twelve a clock for I 
would willingly dispatch them this afternoone." 

NOTE C, p. 170. 

Charles was extremely interested in clocks and watches, and 
had seven clocks in his bedroom, while on the floor of the ante- 
chamber stood a clock which told the hour and the way of the 

1 Letters supposed to have passed between M. de St. Evremond and Mr. 
Waller, ij. 33 ; Hore, History of Newmarket, ij. 249 sqq. ; Allan Fea, After 
Worcester Fight, xli.-xliv. 

- 1 66 sqq. 


wind. Hooke's balance-spring action was tried before him at 
Court; and in the Secret Service Expenses are many items 
relating to clocks and watches. The King himself took Evelyn 
to see his collection of these objects. One of his last acts was 
to order the clocks in his room to be wound up. Curiously 
enough, the King usually set his watch by the great sun-dial in 
Whitehall Garden. 

NOTE D, p. 181. 

Cf. Pepys, 10 July, 1663 : " I met Pierce the Chirurgeon, who 
tells me that for certaine the King is grown colder to my Lady 
Castlemaine than ordinary, and that he believes he begins to 
love the Queene, and do make much of her, more than he used 
to do." On the 4th Pepys had said that the Countess had left 
Court, and had mentioned " a wipe " given her by the Queen : 
" she come in and found the Queene under the dresser's hands, 
and had been so long : ' I wonder your Majesty,' says 
she, ' can have the patience to sit so long a-dressing.' ' I have so 
much reason to use patience,' says the Queen, ' that I can very 
well bear with it' . . . it may be the Queene hath commanded her 
to retire, though that is not likely." 

NOTE E, p. 187. 

(Advertisement in the " Mercurius Publicus," 30 September, 
1658.) "That excellent and by all physicians approved China 
drink, called by the Chineans, Tcha, by other Nations Tay, alias 
Tee, is sold at the Sultaness Head coffee-house, in Sweeting's 
Rents, by the Royal Exchange, London." x Coffee was first 
drunk in England much earlier than this, though it was in this 
reign that the coffee-houses became " tellement repandues? Evelyn 
mentions coffee being drunk in Oxford about 1643. The 
following advertisement is interesting to the student of prices : 
("Mercurius Publicus" 12-19 March, 1662) : " At the Coffee- 
house in Exchange Alley is sold by retail the right Coffee-powder 
from 4/- to 6/- per lb., as in goodness : that pounded in a 
mortar at 3/- per lb. ; also that termed the right Turkic Berry, 
well garbled, at 3/- per lb. : the ungarbled for less ; that termed 
the East India Berry at 2od. per lb., with directions gratis how to 

1 Chambers' Book of Days > ij. 666 ; Sampson, History of Advertising, p. 67. 


make and use the same. Likewise, there you may have Tobacco, 
Verinas and Virginia, Chocolatta the ordinary Ib. -boxes at 2/- 
per Ib. ; also Sherbets (made in Turkic) of Lemons, Roses, and 
Violets perfumed; and Tea, according to its goodness, from 6/- 
to 6o/- per Ib. For all of which if any Gentleman shall write or 
send, they shall be sure of the best as they shall order ; and to 
avoid deceit, warranted under the House Seal viz., Morat the 
Great* " &c. Pepys speaks of his taking " fee," 28 Sept., 1660 ; 
and on 28 June, 1667 : " find my wife making of tea ; a drink 
which Mr. Felling, the Pothicary, tells her is good for her cold." 
All kinds of virtues were attributed to Coffee, especially by one 
of its earliest vendors, Pasqua Rosee, as follows : " The Vertue 
of the Coffee Drink, First made and Publickly sold in England by 
Pasqua Rosee. The grain or berry called coffee, groweth upon 
little trees only in the deserts of Arabia. It is brought from 
thence, and drunk generally throughout all the Grand Seignour's 
dominions. It is a simple, innocent thing, composed into a 
drink, by being dried in an oven, and ground to powder, and 
boiled up with spring-water, and about half a pint of it to be 
drunk fasting an hour before, and not eating an hour after, and to 
be taken as hot as possibly can be endured ; the which will never 
fetch the skin off the mouth, or raise any blisters by reason of that 
heat. The Turks drink at meals and other times is usually water, 
and their diet consists much of fruit ; the crudities whereof are very 
much corrected by this drink. The quality of this drink is cold and 
dry ; and though it be a drier, yet it never heats, nor inflames more 
than hot posset. It so incloseth the orifice of the stomach, and 
fortifieth the heat within, that it is a very good help to digestion ; 
and therefore of great use to be taken about 3 or 4 o'clock after 
noon, as well as in the morning. It much quickens the spirits, 
and makes the heart lightsome ; it is good against sore eyes, and 
the better if you hold your head over it, and take in the steam 
that way. It suppresseth fumes exceedingly, and therefore is good 
against the headache, and will very much stop any defluxion of 
rheums, that distil from the head upon the stomach, and so 
prevent and help consumptions and the cough of the lungs. It 
is excellent to prevent and cure the dropsy, gout, and scurvy. 
It is known by experience to be better than any other drying 
drink for people in years, or children that have any running 

1 I.e. Sultan Amurath the Great of Turkey. Larwood & Hotten, History 
of Signboards, p. 51. 


humours upon them, as the king's evil, etc. It is a most excellent 
remedy against the spleen, hypochondriac winds, and the like. 
It will prevent drowsiness, and make one fit for business, if one 
have occasion to watch, and therefore you are not to drink of it 
after supper, unless you intend to be watchful, for it will hinder 
sleep for 3 or 4 hours. It is observed that in Turkey, where this is 
generally drunk, that they are not troubled with the stone, gout, 
dropsy or scurvy, and that their skins are exceeding clear and 
white. It is neither laxative nor restringent. Made and sold in 
St. Michael's Alley in Cornhill, Pasqua Rosee, at the sign of his 
own head." * Peacham, in the 1664 edition of his " Worth of id," 
says, "for id, you may buy a dish of coffee, to quicken your 
stomach and refresh your spirits." 

NOTE F, pp. 195 and 283. 

Sedans were often very costly : here follows a bill for Nell 
Gwyn's sedan-chair : 

"June 17, 1675. 

The body of the chaire 3 10 o 

The bestneats leather to cover the outside . . 3 10 o 

600 inside nailes, coulerd and burnishd . . . o 1 1 o 

600 guilt with water gold at $s. per cent i 10 o 

1200 outside nailes, the same gold, at 8 s. per cent. . . 4 16 o 

300 studds, the same gold i 16 o 

2000 halfe roofe nailes, the same gold . . . i 14 o 

200 toppit nailes, same gold 3 14 o 

5 sprigs for the top, rich guilt 400 

a haspe for the doore, rich guilt I 10 o 

ffor change of 4 glasses 200 

2 pound 5 s. for one new glasse, to be abated out of that ffor 

a broken glasse 15-r I 10 o 

ffor guilding windows and irons 150 

Serge ffor the bottom 020 

canuisse to put vnder the leather 080 

all sorts of iron nailes 050 

workmanshipe, the chaire inside and outside . . 2 10 o 

34 ii o 
Reict. dated July 1675 for " 30^ in full discharge." 

1 Chambers? Book of Days, i. 170-171 ; cf. Luttrell's Brief Relation, &c., i. 
378. " The 28th May [1686] 5 men of those lately condemned at the sessions, 
were executed at Tyburn ; one of them was one Pascba Rose, the new hang- 
man, so that now Ketch is restored to his place." 


Here is another bill of Nelly's for hired sedan-chairs : 

For careing you to Mrs. Knights and to Madam Younges, 

and to Madam Churchfillds, and waiting four oures . 050 
For careing you the next day, and wateing seven oures . 076 
For careing you to Mrs. Knights, and to Mrs. Cassells 

[Nell's sister], and to Mrs. Churchills, and to Mrs. 

Knights 040 

For careing one Lady Sanes to y e play at White Hall, and 

wayting . . . . . . . . .036 

For careing you yesterday, and wayting eleven] oures . on 6 

Ye some is . . . i 1 1 6 
13 October 75. 

Reed, them of Tho. Groundes in full of these Bills and all other 
demands from Madam Gvvin, 32^ by me William Calow. 1 

NOTE G, p. 196. 

The signboards became so serious a nuisance, not only by 
blocking out air and light, but also by weakening the fronts of 
houses to which they were attached, and sometimes by falling off 
and crushing passers-by ; that after the Fire, a statute was made 
that " no sign-board shall hang across, but the sign shall be fixed 
against the balconies, or some convenient part of the house." 
Though this law was largely evaded in practice, yet many houses 
did adopt carved stone signs, painted or gilt, let into their fronts 
below the first floor windows. The signs gave endless amuse- 
ment to countrymen up in London. 

NOTE H, p. 199. 

Various quotations on dress-subjects are here given : " I have 
also sent 2 paire of Roman gloves which cost 3 shillings a pair, 
and 2 paire of tanned leather gloves ; those with lined topps cost 
25. 6d., y e other i8d." (Chas. Hatton to Chr. Hatton, 18 May, 
1676.) Cf. De Gramont, p. 133, and Etheredge's "Sir Fopling 
Flutter" (1676), iij. 2. 

" His various modes from fathers follow ; 
One taught the toss, and one the new French wallow ; 
His sword-knot this, his cravat that designed ; 
And this the yard-long snake he hoists behind ; 

1 Cunningham, pp. 165-6 j H. MSS. Com. Rep. iij. App. p. 266. 


From one the sacred, periwig he gained, 

Which wind ne'er blew, nor touch of hat profaned. 

Another's diving bow he did adore, 

Which with a shog casts all the hair before, 

Till he with full decorum brings it back, 

And rises with a water-spaniel shake." 

(Dryden's " Epilogue to Sir Fopling Flutter.") 

"'The suit?' 'Barroy.' 'The garniture?' 'Le Gras. 
'The shoes?' 'Piceat.' 'The periwig?' 'Chedreux.' 'The 
Gloves ? ' ' Orangerie ; you know the smell, ladies." (Etheredge's 
"Sir Fopling Flutter" (1676), iij. i.) 

" What unlucky accident puts you out of humour ? 
. . . hair shaded awry? ..." (" Sir Fopling," iij. i.) 

" Up starts a Monsieur, new come o'er, and warm 
In the French stoop and pull back of the arm ; 
' Morbleu] dit-il, and cocks, ' I am a rogue,' " &c. 

(Dryden's " Epilogue to An Evening's Love.") 

" ' Your breech though is a handful too high, in my eye, Sir 
Fopling.' ' Peace, Medley, I have wished it lower a thousand 
times." (" Sir F. F.," iij. 5.) 

"Whitehall, 14 September, 1668. At my return from Ports- 
mouth I found two of yours, one by the post, and the other 
by Mr. Lambert, with the gloves, for which I thanke you 
extreamely. They are as good as is possible to smell. ..." 

" 14 December, 1668. I beg your pardon for forgetting, in 
my last, to thanke you for the petticote you sent me, 'tis the 
fairest I ever saw, and thanke you a thousand times for it." 

(Charles II to Madame). 

NOTE I, p. 202. 

Trick-track was a popular game, almost the same as back- 
gammon. Chess was also played ; but both these games were 
too long and intellectually wearisome for that headlong and 
volatile age ; and were consequently rather to be found in country 
houses than at Whitehall. Yet for a long time, a chair was kept 
in the "Three Mariners" tavern, Vauxhall, in which, tradition 
said, the King used to sit and play chess, on some of his river 
excursions. It was certainly a splendid chair, with high elbows, 
tall legs, covered with purple cloth, and studded with gilt nails. 


Roger North, in his " Autobiography," says, " the game I most 
liked was the Spanish game of 1'hombre . . . after twenty sets of 
picquet or backgammon the public hath nothing to shew for the 
loss of such person's time." Cotton, in his " Compleat Gamester" 
(ist ed., 1674), mentions as card games: "Ruff and Honours, 
or Slam ; Whist ; French Ruff ; Gleek ; Ombre ; Lanterloo ; 
Bankafelet; Beast] Basset t Bragg; Picquet] Primero; Cribbage; 
All Fours; Five-Cards; Bone-Ace; Costly Colours; Putt; Wit 
and Reason ; Art of Memory ; Plain Dealing ; Queen Nazareen ; 
Penneech ; Post and Pair." (The games most often mentioned 
in contemporary literature are in italics. Gleek, Post and Pair, 
and Primero were probably old-fashioned by 1660. We may 
add to this list Crimp.} 

Crambo was a rhyme-tagging game. 

For battledore and shuttlecock we may compare this letter 
of Courtin to Lionne, 23 November, 1676 : " Mme. Mazarin qui 
disna hier chez moi, apres y avoir entendu la messe fort deVote- 
ment, et qui joua toute 1'apres-disne'e au volant dans ma salle 
avec mme. de Sussex." 

NOTE J, p. 202. 

(Inventory of Household Goods which Mr. Serjt. N. left 
with his son in March, 1666.) "... In the Great Chamber. 
The antechamber hung with 5 pieces of Landskipp hangings, a 
very large Bedstead with embroidered curtains and valence of 
broad cloth, lined with carnation-coloured sarcenet, and seven 
plumes of feathers on the bed tester, 2 embroidered carpets, 2 
armed chairs, 4 stools embroidered, suitable to the bed, a Down 
bed and bolster with striped ticks, a feather bolster at the head, 
and a wool bolster at the foot, a holland quilt, 3 down pillows 
and carnation-coloured quilt, a red rug, 3 white blankets, and a 
yellow blanket under the bed. A looking-glass embroidered with 
gold, and another looking-glass, 6 flower-pots, 2 stands and a 
hanging shelf all gilt, a pair of brass andirons, a pair of creepers 
with brass knobs, brass and fire-shovel and tongs, a picture over 
the chimney. Carpets round the bed, 5 sweet bags, snuffers, 2 
branches, &c." (''Cavalier and Puritan," p. 13.) Carpets were 
also used as table-cloths ; cf. Etheredge's " She Would if She 



Abell, Mr., 146 

" Achithophel," 230. See Ashley and 

Adams, John, 117 
Ailesbury, Marquis of, 222 n., 229, 

237, 240 

Airlie, Earl of, 43 
Albemarle, Duke of, 157-8 
Alonzo de Cardenas, 125 
Amy, Captain, 36 
Anglesey, Lord, 159 
Anhalt, Prince of, 131 
Anne, Henrietta. See Henrietta Anne 

and Madame. 
Anne Hyde, 272-3 
Anne Marie de Montpensier. See 

Mile, de Montpensier. 
Anne Murray. See Murray. 
Anne, Princess, 216 and note 
Anthony Ashley Cooper, 156-7, and 

see Shaftesbury 
Archbishop of Canterbury, 173 n., 

and see Bancroft 
Argyll, Marquis of, 43, 160 
Arlington, Lord, 201, 206, 252, 259, 

271, and see Bennett 
Armourer, Sir Nicholas, 260 
Armstrong, Sir Thomas, 212 
Arran, Earl of, 258 
Ascham, 28 

" Ashburnham, Will," 63 
Ashenhurst, Colonel, 53 
Ashley, Lord, 206, 210, and see 

Aston, Mr., 231 
Aubigny, Lord, 173 n., 180, 297 


"Bablon," in, 120 
Bab May. See May, Bab. 

Bagnall, Mr., 47 n. 

Bagshall, Mr., 101 

Baillie, Mr., 30 

Balcarres, Lord and Lady, 128-9 

Bampfylde, Colonel Charles, 25-6 

Barbara Villiers. See Castlemaine, 

Countess of. 

Barillon, 186, 240, 247-8, 278 
" Barlow, Mr.," 96, 102 
"Barlow, Mrs.," 31, 33, 281 
Baroness Nonsuch. See Nonsuch, 

Barrow, Dr., 164 
Bath, Earl of, 241, 248 
Beauclerc, Lord, 281-2 
Beau Fielding. See Fielding, Beau. 
Beaver, Mr., 283 
Bedloe, 228 
Bennet, Henry, Lord Arlington, 119, 

124, 126, 133, 173, and see Lord 

Berkeley, Charles. See Falrnouth, 

Earl of. 

Berkeley, Lord, 158 
Berkshire, Earl of, 12-13, l8 
Betterton, actor, 148 n. 
Beverweert-Nassau, Mile, de, 278 
Bishop Burnet. See Burnet. 
Blague, Colonel Thomas, 51, 53 
Blandford, Lord, 205, 259 
Booth, Sir James, 132 
Boude, Mme., 135 
" Boye," Prince Rupert's Dog, 154 
Boyle, Robert, 168, 170 
Bracegirdle, Mrs., 256 
Bragelonne, Mile, de, 278 
Brathwayte, Mrs., 7 
Brenier, Mile, la, 278 
Brereton, Mr., 211 
Bristol, Lord, 126, 127 
Broadway, Captain, 64 
Broderick (Sir Allan?), 177 
Broghall, Lord, 158-9 
Broughton, Major, 81 



Brouncker, Lord, 167 (President of 

Royal Society) 
Brown, Major-General, 142 
Browne, Sir Richard, 113 
Browne, Sir Thomas, 169 
Bruce. See Ailesbury. 
Brudenel. See Shrewsbury. 
Buccleuch, Countess of, 230 
Buchan, Lord, 43 
Buckhurst, Lord. See Dorset, Earl 


Buckingham, Duchess of, 188 
Buckingham, Duke of, 23, 35, 38, 40, 

43, 45, 46, 51, 53 n., 69, no, 141, 

143, 169, 203-4, 206, 2l6, 218 n., 

226, 252-5, 258, 262-4 
Buckley, Mr., 124 
Bulstrode, Sir Richard, 164 
Burford, Earl of, 281-2 
Burnet, Gilbert, 23, 40, 149 n., 152, 

190, 242-50 n., 268. 
Byron, Lord, 35-6 

Calow, Wm., 301 

Campden, Lord, 141 

Capel, Lord, 21 

Capel, Sir Henry, 239 

Cardenas, Alonzo de, 125 

Carlos, Colonel William, 60-7 

Carteret, Lady (?), 21 

Carteret, Sir George, 17, 260 

Cartwright, Lady, 21 

"Carwell," Mme., 219, 280-1. See 

Portsmouth, Duchess of. 
Gary, Lady, 4 
Case, Mr., 139 
Cassels, Mrs., 301 
Cassilis, Lord, 40 n. 
Castlemaine, Countess of, 176 sqq., 

203-5, 208 n., 212, 273-6, 298, 

and see Cleveland, Duchess of 
Catherine of Braganca. See Queen 

Catten, M. de, 183 
Cham of Tartary, 263 n. 
Chappelles, M. de, 201 
Charlemagne, 117 
Charles FitzCharles, 278 
Charles Louis, Elector Palatine, 125 
Charles I. See King Charles I. 
Charles II. See King Charles II 

and Prince Charles. 
Chastillon, Duchesse de, 24, in, 

116, 120 

Chastillon, Marquis de, 275 
Chesterfield, Earl of, 273, 276 

Chevalier, M., 19-20 

Chiffms, Mr., 243-5 

Christina of Sweden, Queen, 38, 125 

Churchill, John, 275 

Churchill, Madam, 301 

Clarendon, Earl of, 14, 146, 165, 

178-80, 203 sqq., 261, 271, and see 

Hyde, Edward 

Clarendon, Earl of (2nd), 214 
Clarges, John, 157 
Clarges, Dr. Thomas, 138 
Cleveland, 69 
Cleveland, Duchess of, 241, 256-8, 

275, and see Castlemaine 
Clifford, Lord, 206 
Coke, Sir E., 156 
Colbert de Croissy, 208 n., 279 
Coleman the secretary, 222, 227 
Colepeper. See Culpeper. 
Colledge, a joiner, 236 
Comminges, M. de, 32, 119, 157-8, 

165, 182-5 n., 211 
Commissioners of Scotland, 29 
Compton, Sir S., 124 
Coningsby, Mrs. Juliana, 86 
Cooke, Captain, 257 
Corbett, Major, 48 
Cornbury, Viscount, 204 
Cosmo iij, Grand Duke of Tuscany, 


Cottington, Lord, 31, 34 
Courtin, M., 277-8, 303 
Coventry, Mrs., 92 
Coventry, Mr. John, 93 
Coventry, Sir John, 159 
Coker, Mr., 283 
Craven, Earl of, 191, 244 
Creighton, Dr., 149 
Cresswell, William, 53 
Crew, Mr., 139 
Crewe, Bishop of Durham, 219 
Crofts, Mr., 121 
Crofts, Mrs., 239 
Cromarty, Lord, 228 
Cromwell, Oliver, 42, 44, 46, 123, 

125, 131 
Culpeper, Lord, 18, 25, 132 


Danby, Earl of, 215, 225-8 

Darcy, Duke, 51 

Dare, Mr., 235 

Dauncy, John, 108 n., 148-9 

Davies, Moll, 278 

Denham, Lady, 233 n. 

Derby, Earl of, 45, 51, 53 n., 141 

Desborough, General, 94 



Disraeli, 167 

" Don Carlos," 278 

Don Juan, 128 

Dorchester, Lord, 159-60 

Dorislaus, 28, 31 

Dorset, Countess of, 4 

Dorset, Earl of, 13 

Dorset, Earl of (another), 256, 265-8, 
270, 280, 282 

Dowager Princess of Orange, 131 

Downing, 131 

Dryden John. See LITERATURE. 

Dudhope, Lord, 43 

Duke of Buckingham. See Buck- 

Duke of Gloucester. See Henry of 

Duke of Newcastle. See Newcastle. 

Duke of Ormonde. See Ormonde. 

Duke of York. See James. 

Duncome, Mr., 20 

Dunfermline, Earl of, 41 

Duppa, Brian, 4 

Duval, Claude, 194 

Earl of Faversham, etc. See Faver- 

sham, etc. 
Earle, Dr., 23, 107 
Eglesfield, Mr., 3 
Eglinton, Earl of, 41 
Elboeuf, Due d', 37 
Elector of Coin, 124, 125 
Elector of Mayence, 125 
Elector Palatine. See Charles Louis. 
Eliot, Sir Thomas, 259 
Elizabeth, Princess, 25, 39 
Elizabeth, Queen of Bohemia. See 

Queen Elizabeth. 
Elizabeth, Queen of England. See 

Queen Elizabeth 

Ellesdon, Captain William, 86 sqq. 
Elliot, Humphrey, 45 
Elliot, Tom, 33, 118 
Emperor of Germany, 24, 128, and 

see Ferdinand 
Essex, Lord, 234-5, 238-9 
Estrades, Comte d', 275 
Etheredge, Sir George, 254, 265, 

270, 301-2 
Evelyn, Mr., 144 n., 170, 193, 241, 

253, and Appendix 

Fairfax, General Lord, 25, 263 
Falmouth, Earl of, 190 n., 275 
Fanshawe, Lady (Mrs.), 18-19,21, no 
Fanshawe, Sir Richard, 44, 126 n. 

Farr, Mr., 196 

Faversham. See Feversham 

Feilding, Colonel, 16 

Ferdinand iij, Emperor of Germany, 

Feversham, Earl of, 191, 248 n., 


Fielding, Beau, 275 
Finch, Lord Keeper, 237 
Fisher, Sir Clement, 78 
" Flatfoot the Gudgeon-taker," 188 
Forbus, Sir Alexander, 47 
Fox, Sir Stephen, 119, 130 
Frampton, Dr., 164-5 
Fraser, Dr., 38 
Fuensaldanha, 125 

Gaius the host, 103 n. 

Gamache, Pere Cyprien, 78 n. 

Gascoigne, Sir Barnard, 188 

Gaston, Due d'Orleans, 24 

"Gentesau," 137 

Gibbons, Colonel, 142 

GhTard, Mr. Charles, 51-2 

Giffard, Mrs., 52 

Gilbert Burnet. See Burnet. 

Gloucester, Duke of. See Henry. 

Godfrey, Sir Edmund Berry, 222 and 

note, 228 

Godolphin, Mr., 273 
Goodman, an actor, 275 
Gorges, Dr., 80 
Goring, Lord, 16, 124 
Gough, Dr., 27 

Gounter, Captain Thomas, 96-7, 100 
Counter, Colonel, 95 
Grafton, Duke of, 250, 283 
Grahame, James. See Montrose. 
Grahams, Mr., 284 
Gramont, Comte de, 21, 182, 258, 

Grand Duke of Tuscany, 165, and 

see Cosmo iij 

Grandison, Viscount, 46, 273 
Graves, Mrs. Mary, 48 
Greatrakes (Greatorex), Valentine, 

172 n. 

Green, Sir Edward, 278 
Grenville, Sir John, 16, 135, 138 
Griffin, Mr., 273 
Griffith, John, 120 
Grime, Sir Richard, 14 
Groundes, Thomas, 301 
Guildford, Lord Keeper, 162 
Guyse, a traitor, 46 
Gwyn(ne), Nell, 150-1, 169, 251, 

256, 262 n., 274, 280-5, 300-1 




Habreu, Senor, 257 

Halifax, Lord, 225, 227-9, 234-5, 


Hall, Jacob, 275 
Hall, Peter, 210 

Hamilton (Engager Scot), 29-30, 38 
Hamilton, Colonel James, 275 
Hamilton, Duke of, 47 
Hamilton, Marquis of, 3 
Hamnet, 88 
Hampden, 238 
Harding, Richard, 41 
Haro, Don Luis de, 133 
Harris, Mr., 282 
Hart, Charles, 254, 275 
Harvey, Dr., 13 
Harvey, Lady, 282 
Hatton, Charles, 301 
Hatton, Christopher, 172 n., 244 n., 


Hatton, Lord, 253 
Haynes, Colonel, 89 
Heenvliet, Heer, 124 
Henchman, Dr. Humphrey, 93 
Henrietta Anne, sister of Charles ij, 

22, 1 1 1-2, 134, 206 sqg., and see 

Henrietta Maria, Queen of England, 

i, 2, 15, 24, 27, 37, 120, 134, 176, 

2O7, 211 

Henrietta of Orange, 131 

Henri Quatre, 45 

Henry Bennett. See Arlington, and 

Henry of Oatlands, Duke of Glou- 
cester, 25, 120-5, *34> HO-i n- 
143, 216, 261-2 

Henslow, Mr., 100 n. 

Herbert, Lady, 10 

Herbert, Lord, 10 

Hereford, Bishop of, 172 n. 

Hereford, Viscount, 162 n. 

Hertford, Marquis of, 1 1 

Higgons, Mr., 250 

Hinton, Sir John, 13 

Hobbes, Mr., 23 

Holbeard, 75 

Holland, Lord, 23 

Hollis, Lord, 190 

Hols, Mr., 246 

Hooke, Mr., 298 

Hooper, Edward, 210 

Hopton, Lord, 21, 25 

Home, Mr., 93 

Howard, Mr. Bernard, 259 

Howard of Escrick, Lord, 238 

Howard, Sir Philip, 210 

Howard, Robert, 243 and note 

Howard, Sir Robert, 271 

Hubert, 191 

Huddleston, Father, 74, 248-9 

Huddleston, Mr., 67-76 passim 

Hyde, Anne, Duchess of York. See 

Hyde, Edward, 16, 1 8, 21, 29, 31, 

33-4, in, 117, 121, 127-8, 132, 

135, 149-50, 157, and see Clarendon 
Hyde, Edward (another), 92-3 
Hyde, Frederick, 94-5 
Hyde, Laurence (afterwards Earl of 

Rochester), 153, 238, 240, 282 
Hyde, Mrs., sqq., 124 

Imercelle, Mile, d', 127 
Inchiquin, Lord, 207, 219 
Isabelle Angelique, Duchesse de 
Chastillon. See Chastillon. 

"Jackson, Will," 76-84 

Jaffray, 39 

James, Duke of York, II, 13, 25-6, 

33. 35-6. I2 7 HO, 141 n- I43> 

190 n., 215, 225, 232, 240, 244^7., 

256, 258-60, 281 
"Janton," 135, 137 
Jennings, Griffin, 283 
Jennings, Madam, 282 
Jermyn, Henry, 129, 275 
Jermyn, Lord, 21, 23, 32, 37, 110-3, 

116, 259, and see St. Albans 
Jermyn, Tom, 80 
Jones, Rice, 91 
Jones, Will, 56, 76 


" Keerwell, Mme.," 279 

Ken, Bishop, 247 

Keroiialle, Mile, de, 263 n., 278-80, 

and see Portsmouth 
Ketch, Jack, 300 n. 
Kildare, Lord, 283 
Killegrew, 204 
Killegrew, Henry, 255, 273 
Killegrew, Tom, 152-3, 254 
King, Colonel, 81 
King, Dr., 243 n.~5 
King Charles i., 13, 15, 27 



King Charles ij., proclaimed in Edin- 
burgh, 1649, 29 ; leaves Holland, 
June, 1649, 31 ; goes to Brussels, 
June, 1649, 31 ; goes to Com- 
piegne, 1649, 31 ; goes to St. Ger- 
mains, 1649, 32 ; goes to Poissy, 
1649, 33; Chevalier's description 
of, 1649, 34 ; goes to Caen, Sept., 

1649, 34 ; leaves St. Germains, 
12 Sept., 1649, 34 ; at Coutances, 

16 Sept., 1649, 34 ; at Cotain- 
ville, 17 Sept., 1649, 34; at Jersey, 

17 Sept., 1649, 34; Winram's de- 
scription of, Dec., 1649, 35-6 ; 
leaves Jersey, 13-23 Feb., 1650, 
36 \ at Cotainville, Feb., 1650, 36 ; 
at Coutances, Feb., 1650, 36 ; 
at St. Lo, 15 Feb., 1650, 36; at 
Caen, i6il Feb., 1650, 36; at 
Lisieux, 17 Feb., 1650, 37 ; at 
Bliosne, 18 Feb., 1650, 37 ; at 
Elbceuf, 19 Feb., 1650, 37 ; at Trip- 
pneuve, 20 Feb., 1650, 37 ; at 
Beauvais, 21 Feb., 1650, 37 ; at 
Ghent, 23 March, 1650, 37 ; at 
Breda, 26 March, 1650, 38 ; em- 
barks at Harslaersdyck, 2 June, 

1650, 38 ; signs Treaty of Breda, 
1 1 June, 1650, 38 ; swears to 
Covenant, 23 June, 1650, 38 ; off 
Heligoland, June, 1650, 38 ; lands 
at Garmouth, Scotland, 24 June 
(O.S.), 1650, 39 ; at St. Andrews, 
July, 1650, 39 ; at Falkland, 16 
July, 1650, 39 ; at Perth, 23 July- 
2 Aug., 1650, 40 ; at Dunfermline, 
18-26, Aug., 1650, 40 ; at Leith, 
in camp, Aug., 1650, 41 ; at Dun- 
fermline, 18-26 Aug., 1650, 41 ; at 
Stirling, Aug., 1650, 41 ; inter- 
view with Dean King, Aug., 1650, 
41-2 ; at Perth, 18-26 (?) Aug., 
1650, 41 ; flight, 4-14 Oct., 1650, 
43 ; at Clova, 4-14 Oct., 1650, 43 ; 
at Huntly Castle, 4-14 Oct., 1650, 
43 ; at Perth, 5-15 Oct., 1650, 43 : 
crowned, I Jan., 1651, 44 ; marches 
on England, I Aug., 1651, 44; at 
Woodhouselee, 5 Aug., 1651, 44; 
at Worcester, 22 Aug., 1651, 45; 
proclaimed at Worcester, 23 Aug. , 
1651,45-6; flight from Worcester, 
3Sept.-i5Oct., 165 1, 49-108; lands 
at Fecamp, 15 Oct., 1651, 107; at 
Rouen, 16 Oct., 1651, 107; at 
Fleurie, 19 Oct., 1651, 108 n. ; 
atMorieaux, 20 Feb., 1651, 108 n. ; 
at Paris, 20 Feb., 1651, 108 n. ; 
falls ill, Aug., 1653, 115 ; recovers, 

Sept., 1653, iiSj at Chantilly, 
Oct., 1653, 115; at Paris, Dec., 

1653, 115 ; leaves Court, 29 May, 

1654, 1 16 ; leaves Paris, lo July, 
1654, 116; at Merlou, IO July, 
1654, 116; at Peronne, n July, 
1654, 116; at Cambrai, 14 July, 
1634, Il6; at Spa, 19 July, 1654, 
116 ; leaves Aachen, 8 Oct., 1654, 
118; at Juliers, 8 Oct., 1654, 118 ; 
at Coin, April, 1655, 1 18 ; at 
Diisseldorf, 29 Oct., 1654, 118; 
leaves Coin, Feb., 1655, 122; 
leaves Middleburgh, Feb., 1655, 
122; leaves Coin, April, 1655, 
122 ; and his brother Henry study 
Italian, 1655, 123 ; at Frankfort 
Fair, Sept.-Oct., 1655, 124-5 '> 
at Coin, Nov., 1655, 125 ; leaves 
Coin, 8 March, 1656, 125 ; at 
Brussels, March, 1656, 125-6 ; at 
Vilvord, March, 1656, 126 ; at 
"Sun" inn, Louvain, II March, 
1656, 126 ; signs treaty with Spain, 
12 April, 1656, 126 ; at Brussels, 
II April, 1656, 128; at Bruges, 
19 April, 1656, 126 ; attends meet- 
ings of crossbowmen and archers, 
11-25 June, 1657, 127; at Dun- 
kirk, Oct., 1657, 128 ; at Bruges, 
Oct. and Dec., 1657, 128 ; at Ant- 
werp, Feb., 1658, 128 ; at Brus- 
sels, 7 Feb., 1658, 126 ; at Brus- 
sels, March, 1658, 130; tours in 
United Provinces, 1658, 131 ; at 
Zevenbergen, June, 1658, 131 ; at 
Hoogstraaten, Aug., 1658, 131 ; 
at Hague, 1658, 131 ; proposes 
for Henrietta of Orange, 1658, 131; 
leaves Brussels, 3-13 Aug., 1659, 
132 ; at Hazebrouck, Aug., 1659, 

132 ; at Trevuren, Aug., 1659, 132 ; 
at Calais, Aug., 1659, 132 ; at 
Boulogne, Aug., 1659, 132 ; at 
St. Malo, Aug., 1659, 132; at 
Rouen, Aug., 1659, 132 ; goes to 
Spain, Sept., 1659, 132-3 ; at La 
Rochelle, 22 Sept., 1659, 133 ; 
at Toulouse, 30 Sept., 1659, 133 ; 
his opinion of travelling in Spain, 
1659, 133 ; atZaragoza, Oct., 1659, 

133 ; at Fuentarabia, 28 Oct., 1659, 
133 ; at Bayonne, Oct., 1659, 134 ; 
at Hendaye, 28 Oct., 1659, 134; 
at Colombes, Nov.-Dec., 1659, 
134, 207 ; at Brussels, 26 Dec., 
1659, 134; leaves Brussels, 21-31 
Mar., 1659, 136 ; at Breda, 21-31 
Mar., 1660, 136 ; proclaimed in 


London, 8-18 May, 1660, 136 ; at 
Hague, 14-24 May, 1660, 136-7 ; 
receives English Lords, etc., 16-26 
May, 1660, 137-8; boards the 
Naseby, May, 1660, 139 ; at Dover, 
May, 1660, 140 ; at Canterbury, 
May, 1660, 141-2; at Rochester, 
May, 1660, 142 ; at Blackheath, 
May, 1660, 142 ; at Deptford, 
May, 1660, 142 ; at St. George's 
Fields, Southwark, May, 1660, 
142 ; at Whitehall, May, 1660, 
142 ; Juke's description of, 1660, 
148-9, 154 ; at Portsmouth, 20 
May, 1662, 174; impressions of 
his wife, May, 1662, 174 sqq. ; at 
Poole, Sept., 1663, 210; grief at 
his sister's death, 1670, 212 ; hawks 
in Buckinghamshire, 1678, 214 ; 
at Newmarket, 1680, 226 ; at Bur- 
ford, 17 Mar., 1681, 226; falls ill, 
Aug., 1679, 232-3 n. ; falls ill, 
May, 1680, 234-5 ; last illness, 
Jan., 1685, 241-51 ; receives last 
rites, Feb., 1685, 249 n. ; death 
and burial, Feb., 1685, 251 ; gives 
Exeter his sister's portrait, 17 ; and 
his mother, 33 ; his account of flight 
from Worcester, 49-108 ; his 
studies, 1654, 118 ; plays cribbage, 
Mar., 1656, 126 ; compared to 
David, 1660, 147 ; his appearance, 
1660, 147-8; as linguist, 149 n.; 
and literature, 151-2 ; his promises, 
161-2 ; his finances and schemes, 
1660, etc., 163-4; his religion, 
164-5 5 ms interest in astronomy, 
1 70 ; his menagerie in St. James' 
Park, 170; his laboratory, 170; 
Burnet on, 166, 177 ; fishing, 188 ; 
his interest in the Navy, etc., 209- 
II ; his love of music, 211 ; his 
love of hawking, 214; his French 
Catholic Plot, 215 ; in House of 
Lords, 225-6; and Popish plot, 
227-9 5 his bankers' debts, 240 ; 
at theatre, 256 ; at tennis, 257 ; at 
Pall Mall, 148, 253, Appx. ; his 
character, 285-7. 

King Charles ij, Letters of. To 
Bennet : 22 Dec., 1654, 119-20; 
25 May, 8 June, 5 July, 17-8 
Aug., 14 Sept., 18 Oct., 1655, 
123-4; July, II Aug., I Sept., 
1656, 126-7 ; July, 1657, 128. 
About Castlemaine, June, 1662, 
177-8; to Clarendon, 8 Sept., 
1663, 185-6 ; to Cleveland, de- 
scription of, 276 ; to Committee of 

Estates, 1651, 42 ; Council Notes, 
[pp.] I49n., 158 J??., 162 n., 172-3, 
208, 212-3 ; to Countess of Lich- 
field, 20 Oct., 16 , 276-7 ; to 
Due d'Elbceuf, July, 1670, 212 ; 
to Elizabeth of Bohemia, 6 Aug., 
1654, 1 1 6. To Henrietta Anne, 
his sister: 7 Feb., 1660, 134-5; 
May, 1660, 137 ; 26 May, 1660, 
141-2 ; 20 Dec., 1660, 208 ; 23 
Dec., 1661, 209 ; 26 May, 1662, 
176; 9 Feb., 1663, 180; 28 Mar., 
1663, 201 ; 20 April, 1663, 181, 
230; 9 Sept., 1663, 210; 2 Nov., 

1663, 183 ; 10 Dec., 1663, 162, 
181 ; 18 Jan., 1664, 181 ; 19 May, 

1664, 183-4; 26 Dec., 1664, 170; 
8 June, 1665, 190 ; 14 Jan., 1668, 
230-1 ; 23, 30 Jan., 1668, 231 ; 
5 Mar., 1668, 204-5 '> 7> 2 4 Ma y 
1668, 231 ; 22 Mar., 1669, 211 ; 
(date unknown), 169-70. To 
Henry of Gloucester, 1654, 121-2; 
to Hyde, Oct., 1659, 133 ; to James 
of York, Mar., 1679, 232 ; to Jane 
Lane, June, 1652, 85 n. ; to 
Lauderdale, 12 April, 1660, 136 ; 
to Middleton, 22 Mar., 1660-1, 
160-1 ; to Monk, 17-27 May, 1660, 
138 ; to Ormonde, 19 Mar., 1656, 
126, 205 ; to Prince Rupert, 1651, 
205 ; to Princess of Orange, 
1657, 129 ; about Sir Henry Vane, 
7 June, 1662, 161 

King of France, 3. See Louis xiij 

and xjv. 
Kirkby, 227-8 
Kirton, Mr., 84 
Knight, Mrs., 187, 282, 301 
Knipp, Mrs., 256 

Lainey, M., 283 

Lambert, General, 46 

Lambert, Mr., 302 

Lane, Colonel, 72, 78 

Lane, Mr., 83 

Lane, Mrs., 76 

Lane, Mrs. Jane, 76 sqq., 124 

Lanerick, Lord, 47 

Langhorne, Mr., 224 

Lanier, Nicholas, 130 

Lansdowne, Lord, 242 n. 1 

Lassels, Mr. Henry, 76, 83-4 

Laud, Bishop, 2 

Lauderdale, Lord (afterwards Duke 

of), 26, 29, 38, 51, 165, 170, 206, 

219, 264 


Legge, Colonel, 174 

Legge, Will, 239 

Lennox, Duke of, 3 

Lenthall, Squire, 214 

Leslie, Major-General David, 42, 45, 


L'Estrange, Roger, 151 
Lichfield, Charlotte, Countess of, 276 
Lilly, 2, 172 

Limboy, Stephen, 86 sqq. 
Lindsey, Earl of, 143 
Lionne, M. de, 119, 303 
Livingstone, 39, 40 n. 
Lloyd, David, 151 n. 
Lloyd, Dr., 222 
Locke, John, 168 
Long, , 29 

Lorraine, Duchess of, 129 
"Lorrie," 96 
Louis XIII, 24 
Louis XIV, 24, 112, 169, 172, 186, 

198, 206, 262, 286 
Lovell, Mr., 12 1 
Ludlow, Major-General, 141 n.-i43 n - 


Lumley, Lord, roo 
Lumley, Mr., 283 
Luttrell, Narcissus, 246 n. 
Lyttelton, Sir Charles, 172 n., 187, 

243 n.-6 


Macey, Captain, 91 
Macpherson, 248-9 
" Madame," Duchess of Orleans, 181, 

187, 206 sqq., 212, 233 n., and see 

Henrietta Anne 

Malet, Elizabeth. See Rochester. 
Manchester, Earl of, 1 88 
Mancini, Hortensia, 134, and see 

Mazarin, Duchess 
Mansel, Mr. Francis, 97, 102 
Manwaring, Mr. George, 63 
Marchin, Comte de, 129 
Martin, Bartholomew, 52 
Martin, Edward, 53 
Mary of Modena, Duchess of York, 

224, 273, 277 
Mary of Orange, Princess Royal of 

England, 117-8, 124-5, I28 > I 3> 

140, 200 
Mary of York, afterwards Princess of 

Orange and Queen of England, 

Mason, 137 

Massey, Major-General, 46 
Massonnet, Peter, 10 

Matthews, Mr., 13 

Maurice, Prince Palatine, 125 

May, Bab, 205, 253-7 

Mayence, Elector of, 125 

Maynard, Thomas, 173-4 

Mayor of Dover, 140 

Mazarin, Cardinal, 25, 133, 277 

Mazarin, Duchesse, 241, 276-8, 281, 


Middleton, Earl of, 117, 160-1 
Mohun (actor), 254 
Mohun, Major, 129 
Monk, General, 132, 135-6, 140-1, 

143, 156-8, 225, 261 
Monk, Mrs., 138, 157 
"Monkey Duchess," 157 
Monmouth, Duchess of, 216, 258 
Monmouth, Duke of, 131, 169, 191, 

225-6, 230-9, 258, 273, 281 
Montagu, 139 
Montagu, Admiral, 141 
Montagu, Mr., 121 
Montagu, Ralph, 275 
Montelion, 172 
Montgomery, 46 

Montpensier, Mile, de, 24, 31-2, no 
Montrose, Marquis ;of, 29-30, 36, 


Moore, Lady, 130 
Moray, Sir Robert, 170 
Mordaunt, Lady, 256 
Morice, 141, 156, 159, 205 
Mor(e)land, Sir Samuel, 145, 196 
Morley, Captain, 100 
Morosini, 109 

Motteville, Mme. de, 2, 23-4 
Mulgrave, Earl of, 268 
Murray, Anne, 25-6, 40-1 
Murray, Charles, 22 


Napier, 29 

Neale, Sir P., 170 

Newburgh, Lord, 125 

Newcastle, Earl of (afterwards Mar- 
quis and Duke), 4-10, 129, 154-6, 
162 n., 165, 271 

Newcastle, Lady (afterwards Duchess 
of), 129, 272 

Newdegate, Serjeant, 303 

Newdegate, Sir Richard, 233 n. 

Newton, Sir Isaac, 168 

Nicholas, Sir Edward, 117, 157 

Nonsuch, Baroness, 275. See Castle- 

Norfolk, Duchess of, 283 

North, Roger, 191-3 



Northumberland, Duke of, 250 
Norton, Mr. George, 76 sqq. 
Norton, Mrs., 80, 83 
Norwich, Earl of. See Goning. 
Nostradamus, 172 


Gates, Titus, 148 n., 217, 226, 228 

O'Neil, Mr., 124 

" Orange Moll," 254 

Orange, Prince of. See William. 

Orin, Lady, 282 

Orleans, Duchess of, 206 sqq., and see 

Henrietta Anne and Madame 
Ormonde, Lady (afterwards Duchess 

of), 37 
Ormonde, Marquis of (afterwards 

Duke of), 35-6, 38, 42,68 n., 114, 

117, 120-4, 130, 157, 222 n., 271 
Orrery, Lord, 271 
Osborne, Sir Thomas, 215, and see 

Oxford, Earl of, 141, 157 

Palin, Thomas, 72 

Palmer, Barbara. See Castlemaine 

and Cleveland, and 145, 177 sqq., 

Palmer, Roger (afterwards Earl of 

Castlemaine), 140 n., 178 n., 274, 


Palsgrave, 3 
Parker, Mr., 107 
Pasqua Rosee, 300 
Peg, Catherine, 278 
Pelling, Mr., 299 
Pembroke, Lord, 166, 219 
Penderel, George, 52-3 
Penderel, Humphrey, 53 
Penderel, Joan, 63 n., 65 
Penderel, Richard, and the rest, 53- 

75 passim 
Penderel, William, 45, 52-3, 68 n., 


Penn, William, 165 

Pepys, Samuel, 49, 135, 138-9, 148 n., 

154, I57> 165, 181 n., 190-1, 213, 


Percy, Lord, 23 
Peterborough, Lady, 256 
Peters, Hugh, 86 sqq. 
Petre, Mr. John, 76, 78 
Phelips, Colonel Robert, 93 sqq. 
Philippe, Due d'Orleans, 206-7 

Philip William, Count Palatine of 
Newburgh, 118 

Pierce, Mr., 246, 298 

" Pitchcroft, Mr.," 6 1 n. 

Plunket, Archbishop, 160, 227 

Pomponne, M. de. See Courtin . 

Pope, 80 

Portsmouth, Duchess of, 186, 228, 
235, 240-1, 263 n., 274, 278-81, 
and see Keroiialle 

Portsmouth, Lord, 219 

Potter, Mr., 90 

Potvin, Mr., 283 

Pregnani, Abbe, 169- 70 

Preston, Sir John, 72 

Prideaux, Bishop, 219 

Prince Charles, bom 29 May, 1630, 
2 ; made Earl of Chester, 1630, 2 ; 
made Knight of the Garter, 1630, 
2 ; an ugly baby, 1630, i ; christen- 
ing, 1630, 2-3 ; fondness for 
wooden billet, 4 ; a good horse- 
man, 4 ; letter to Lord Newcastle, 
10 ; carries letter to the Lords, n ; 
goes to Greenwich, Feb., 1642, n ; 
takes Hon. M.A. of Oxford and 
Cambridge, 1642, n; letter to 
Mary of Orange, 9 March, 1642, 
12 ; Captain of Prince of Wales' 
Own, May, 1642, 12 ; at Notting- 
ham, 1642, 13 ; at Edgehill, Oct., 
1642, 13 ; at Reading, Oct., 1642, 
14; at Oxford, 1642-4, 14; at 
Burford, 17 June, 1644, 15; at 
Buckingham, 23 June, 1644, 15 ; 
at Cropredy Bridge, 27 June, 1644, 
15; at Newbury, 27 Oct., 1644, 
15; at Oxford, 27 Nov., 1644, 15, 
1 6; at Deanery, Exeter, 1644, 17; 
made Duke of Cornwall, etc., 
1644, 16 ; leaves Oxford, 16 ; goes 
into the West, March, 1645, 16 ; 
at Bristol, 30 April, 1645, 17 ; at 
Bridgewater, I June, 1645, 17; at 
Mr. Potter's, Exeter, 1645, 1 7 1 
visits his sister in Exeter, 1645, 
17 ; at Wells, June, 1645, 17 ; at 
Barnstaple, 25 June, 1645, 17; at 
Liscard, 21 July, 24 Oct., 1645, 
17 ; at Launceston, 28 July and 
16 Sept., 1645, 17; at Exeter, 
29 Aug., 1645, J 7 ' at Truro, 
21 Nov., 1645, 17; tries to relieve 
Exeter, 26 Dec., 1645, 17 ; jest 
about Bodmin, 17 n. ; at Launces- 
ton, Jan., 1646, 18; at Truro, 
12 Feb., 1646, 18; at Pendennis 
Castle, 17 Feb., 1646, 18 ; at 
Scilly Isles, 2 March, 1646, 18; 



leaves St. Mary's, 16 April, 1646, 
19 ; in Jersey, 17 April, 1646, 19 ; 
has boat built, June, 1646, 19; 
popular in Jersey, 1646, 19 ; 
table-service in Jersey, 1646, 20 ; 
goes to France, 24 June, 1646, 22 ; 
at Cotainville, 24 June, 1646, 22 ; 
at Paris, 1646, 22 ; at St. Ger- 
mains, 1646,22; at Fontainebleau, 
1646, 22 ; at Charenton, 1646, 
23 ; courtship of Mile., 1646-7, 
24 ; wishes to join French army, 
1646-7, 24-5 ; leaves St. Ger- 
mains, 25 June, 1648, 25 ; goes to 
Helvoetsluys, 9 July, 1648, 25 ; 
goes to Yarmouth, 9 July, 1648, 
26 ; accepts Engagers' Terms, 
16 Aug., 1648, 26 ; stands to 
Parliament Fleet, 29 Aug., 1648, 

26 ; at Goree, 3 Sept., 1648, 26 ; 
brave behaviour of, 27 j at Breda, 

27 ; has smallpox, 27 ; appeals to 
the States for his father, 27 ; ap- 
peals to Louis XIV and Mazarin, 
27 ; at Richmond, So 

"Prince Perkin," 281 
Progers, Edward, 36 
Purcell, Mr., 269 

Queen Elizabeth of Bohemia, 138 
Queen Elizabeth of England, 224 
Queen Katherine of England, 33, 

173-188 passim, 203, 226, 245, 

256 sqq. 
Queen-Mother of England, 208, and 

see Henrietta Maria 
Queen-Mother of France, 3 


Radford, Thomas, 157 

Rands, Mr. Theodore, 210 

"R.C.," 117 

Rane, Lord, 234 

Renenbourg, Mme., 127 

Reresby, Sir John, 174, 207, 228, 

251, 262 

Retz, Gilles de, 27 and note 
Reymes, Colonel Bullen, 91-2 
Reynolds, Dr., 144 
Reynolds, Mr. Francis, 72, 75 
Rhodes, Mr., 38 
Richmond, Duchess of, 3, 188 
Richmond, Duke of, 203, 250, 279 
Rider, Matthew, 80 
X 2 

Riley, Mr., 151 

Roche-Guilhem, Mile, de la, 278 
Rochester, Countess of, 267-8 
Rochester, Earl of, (John Wilmot), 

50, 117, 126, 166, 169, 188, 254, 

264-70, 282 
Rochester, Earl of (Laurence Hyde). 

See Hyde, Laurence. 
Rohan, Prince de, 263 n., 281 
Roper, Mr., 188 
Roscarrock, Colonel, 51-2 
Roscommon, Earl of, 271 
Ross, Mr. Thomas, 131, 231 
" Roxellana," 256 
" Royal Charles," 117 
Rumbold, 238 
Rumsey, 238 
Rupert, Prince Palatine, 1 6, 24-5, 

112, 115, 125, 154, 257-9,271-2 
Russell, Lord, 238-9 
Russian Ambassador, 253 
Ruvigny, M. de, 185 

St. Albans, Duke of, 250 

St. Albans, Earl of, 176, I So, 257, 

and see Jermyn 
St. Evremond, 277-8, 295 
Salisbury, Bishop of, 266 
Sambourne (Sandburne), Mr., 107, 


San(d)croft, Archbishop, 246-7 
Sandwich, Lord, 140, 275 
Sanes, Lady, 301 
Savile, Mr., 282 
Scrope, Sir Carr, 282 
Sedley, Catherine, 270 
Sedley, Sir Charles, 253-5, 2 ^ 


Seymour, Henry, 83 
Seymour, William. See Hertford. 
Shaftesbury, Countess of, 224 
Shaftesbury, Earl of, 148 n., 156-7, 

167, 169, 206, 2IO, 217, 222 sqq., 

229, 236-40 n., and see Ashley 
Sharpe, James, 138 
Shaw, Mr., 149 n. 
Shepherd, Sir Fleetwood, 270 
Shipton, Mother, 172 
Shore, Jane, 274 
Short, Dr., 233 n. 
Shrewsbury, Anna Maria Brudenel, 

Countess of, 263 
Sidney, Algernon, 238-9 
Sidney, Colonel Robert, 230 
Sidney, Henry, 233 
Silvius, 116 



Sinclair, 29 

Sinclair, Sir Thomas, 295-7 

Smith the Host, 101 

Sneyd, Richard, 45 

Southall, 74 

Southampton, Countess of, 275 

Southampton, Duke of, 250 

Southampton, Lord, 100 

Sophia, Princess Palatine, 30-1 

Sorbiere, M. de, 167 

Stafford, Lord, 160, 227 

Stanhope, Lady, 124 

Stanton of Hatton, 67 

Stapleton, Sir Miles, 145 

Staunton, Mr. William, 65-66 n. 

Stayner, 139 

Stewart, Miss Francis (afterwards 
Duchess of Richmond), 183, 189, 
203, 254, 262, 275 

Stillingfleet, Dr., 164 

Stowell, Sir John, 144 

Strafford, Earl of, 1 1 

Strangways, Giles, 85 sqq. 

Strutts, William, 210 

Sunderland, Dowager Lady, 233 n. 

Sunderland, Earl of, 234-5 

Sussex, Countess of, 276-7 

Swan, Robert, 78, 96 

Symons, Mr. Thomas, 98-100 

Taafe (Taff), Lord, 116-7, 120, 127 

Talbot, Lord, 51 

Tara(gh), Viscount, 126 

Taylor, Mr., 116 

Temple, Sir William, 206, 229 

Teonge, 222 

Tettershall, Captain, 101 sqq. 

Thurloe, 127 

Thynne, Lady Isabella, 37 

Titus Gates, 221 sqq. See Gates. 

Titus, Silas, 35 

Tombs (Tomes), Mr. John, 78 n. 

Trant, Mr., 282 

Trevannion, Captain, 248 n. 

Tuam, Dean of, 44 

Vane, Sir Henry, 161 
Van Tromp, 27 
Vaughan, Lady, 273 

Vic, Sir Henry de, 126, 258 
Villiers, Barbara. See Castlemaine 

and Cleveland and Barbara Villiers. 
Villiers, George. See Buckingham, 

Duke of. 
Vivonne, M., 112 


Wade, Margaret, 86, 88-9 
Wakeman, Sir George, 226-7 
Walker, Richard, 51 
Waller, Edmund, 295, and see 

Walters, Lucy, 33, 131, 230, 234, 

and see Barlow, Mrs. 
Warwick, Earl of, 26 
Wentworth, Lord, 96, 117 
Wheeler, 17 n. 
Whitgreave, Mr., 63-4, 67-76 passim 

William of Orange, brother-in-law of 
Charles ij, 27, 31, 140 

William of Orange, nephew of Charles 
ij, 215-7, 270 

Williams, Lady, 282-3 

Wilmot, George. See Rochester, 
Earl of. 

Wilmot, Lord, 38, 43, 50 sqq., 60, 67, 
69, 117, 265 

Winchilsea, Earl of, 140 

Winram, Sir George, 35-6 

Wise, Michael, 235 

Wolfe, Mr. Francis, 57-60 

Wolfe, Mrs., 60 

Wood, James, 138 

Woolley, Bishop, 166 

Worcester, Lady, 284 

Wren, Sir Christopher, 241 

Wyndham, Colonel, 34 

Wyndham, Colonel Frank, 84 sqq. 

Wyndham, Lady, 85, 92 

Wyndham, Mrs., 16-17, 2 3> 34~5 

Wyndham, Sir Hugh, 91 

Yates, 51-2 
Yates, Francis, 55-7 
York, Duchess of, 256-8, and see 
Hyde, Anne, and Mary of Modena. 
York, Duke of. See James. 
Young, Madam, 301 




Aachen, 117-8 
Abbots Leigh, 79 
Aberdeen, 39 n. 
Aix-la-Chapelle, 117 
" Allports Leasow," 69 
"Angel," Islington, 194 
Antwerp, 113, 128 
Arras, 119 
Arundel Hill, 100 
Astracan, 253 
Audley End, 169, 188 
Aylesbury, 146, 267 


Balliol College, Oxford, 236 
Barbourne Bridge, Worcester, 48 
Barham Down, 141 
Barnhall, 51 
Barnstaple, 17 
Bath, 184-5 an d note 
Bayonne, 134 

"Bear," Southampton Gate, Salis- 
bury, 93 
Bearby, 77 
Bearsley, 78 n. 
Beauvais, 37 
Beeding, 101 
Bentley, 67, 72-3, 76-7 
Berkshire, 235 
Berwick, Dorsetshire, 87 n. 
Birmingham, 79 n. 
Blackheath, 142 
Blakeshall, 51 
Bliosne, 37 
Bodmin, 17 
Bog o' Gicht, 39 
Bombay, 188 
Bonn, 124 
Boscobel, 51-2 
Boscobel House, 44 
Boscobel Wood, 6 1 
Bothwell Brig, 231 
Boulogne, 132 
Bramber, 100 
Breda, 27, 38, 136, 138 
Brentford, 38 
Brewood, 51, 66 
Bridgenorth, 57 
Bridgewater, 16, 17 
Bridport, 87 n., 89 sqq . 
Brigg of Erne, 43 
Brighthelmstone, 97 

Brighthempson, 97 

Brighthemston, 101 

Brighton, 101 sqq. 

Bristol, 17, 79, 83 

Broadhalfpenny, 98 

Broad waters, 51 

Broad Windsor, 91 

Brownsea, Dorset, 210 

Brumingham, 79 n. 

Bruges, 126, 1 28 

Brussels, 31, 125-6, 128, 130, 132, 

134, 136 

Buckingham, 15, 214 
Bunshill, 46 
Burchant, 100 n. 
Burford, 15, 214 
Burford House, 282 
Burhunt, 100 n. 

Caen, 34, 36 

Caesar's Bath, Aachen, 118 

Calais, 132 

Cambrai, 116 

Cambridge, II 

Campsfield, 214 

Canterbury, 138, 141-2 

Carlton, 145 n. 

Castle Gary, 84 

Chaillot, 135 

Chancery Lane End, 223 

Chantilly, 112, 115 

Charenton, 23 

Charleton Horethorne, 93 

Charmouth, 86 sqq. 

Chatham, 119, 211 

Chelsea, 96 

Chester Lane, 51 

Chichester, 97 

Chipping Campden, 79 

Chipping Sodbury, 79 

Christ Church, Oxford, 236 

Christ's Hospital School, 171 

Cirencester, 79 

Clarendon Park Corner, 97 

Claydon, 145 

Clova, 43 

" Cock," Bow Street, 271 

Colchester, 26 

Coin, 118, 122, 125 

Colombes, 134, 207 

Compiegne, 31 

Connans, 276 

Constitution Hill, 228 


Convent of S. Dominique, 33 
Corbisdale, 38 
Cornbury, 185 
Cornbary Park, 214 
Cornmarket, Worcester, 48 
Cotainville, 22, 34, 36 
Cotsal, 53 
Coutances, 34, 36 
Cranbourne, 260 
Cropredy Bridge, 15 
Crosby, 46 

" Crown," Cirencester, 79 
Cupar, 39 


Delaware, 189 
Deptford, 142 
Dieppe, 105 
Ditchley Park, 276 
Dorchester, 91 
Dover, 138, 140 
Drury Lane, 281 
Dunbar, 42 
Dundee, 43 
Dunfermline, 38, 40-1 
Dunkirk, 128, 189, 203 
Diisseldorf, 118 


Eagle Insurance Office, 281 

Edgehill, 13 

Edinburgh, 29 

Elbceuf, 37 

Elif, 216 

Elizabeth Castle, Jersey, 22 

Elm Court, Temple, 192 

Elsdon's Farm, 87 

Emsworth, 97 

Epsom, 271, 280 

Erith, 216 

Euston, 259, 279 

Evelith Mill, 57 

Exeter, 17, 206 

Falkland, 39 
Fecamp, 107 
Fleetbridge, 222 n. 
Fleet Street, 193 
Fleurie, 108 n. 
Fontainebleau, 22, 184 
Font Arabic, 133 
Foregate, Worcester, 48 

Fosseway, 79 n. 

France, 206 

Frankfort, 124-5 

Friars Street, Worcester, 47-8 

Fuentarabia, 133 

Garmouth, 39 

Gatakar Park, 45 

Geometry School, Oxford, 237 

"George," Bridport, 89^^. 

"George," Brighthelmston, 101 

" George," Broadwindsor, 91-2 

" George," Mere, 93-4 

Ghent, 37 

Goree, 26 

Gravesend, 216 

Green Hill, 51 

"Green Mare," Newmarket, 265 

Greenwich, n 

Greenwich Observatory, 171 

Gresham College, 170 

Guernsey Castle, 17, 90 

" Gun," Moorfields, 198 


Hague, 28, 131, 138-9 
Hambledon, 98 
Hampton Court, 175-6 
Harslaersdyck, 38 
Hartlebury, 51 
Hazebrouck, 132 
Heale, 93 sqq. 
Heligoland, 38 
Helvoetsluys, 25 
Hendaye, 134 
Hereford, 280 
Himley, 51 
Hobbal Grange, 52 
Hoddesden, 239 
Hogsden, 198 
Holland, 31, 206 
Hoogstraaten, 131 
Houghton, 100 
Huntly Castle, 43 
Hyde Park, 228, 256, 258 

Inkberrow, 77 
Ireland, 35 
Islington, 198 


Jermyn Street, 282 
Jersey, 19 sqq., 36, 90, IIO 
Juliers, 118 


Kent, 132 

" King's Arms," Salisbury, 93 

" King's Head," Temple Bar, 223 

"King's Head," Poultry, 144 

King's Lane, 78 n. 

King's Theatre, 255 

Kiug Street, Westminster, 274 

Konigstein, 125 

Lamb's Conduit, 198 

Lambeth Castle, 87 n. 

Lancashire and Cheshire, 132 

La Rochelle, 133 

Launceston, 17-8 

Lawford's Gate, Bristol, 79 

Lee Castle Park, 51 

Lee Road, 26 

"Leg," King Street, Westminster, 


Leigh, Bristol, 76 sqq. 
Leith, 41 

Lincoln's Inn Fields, 281 
Lisbon, 173 
Liscard, 17 
Lisieux, 37 
London, 60, 194 sqq. 
London Bridge, 197 
Long Marston, 78 
Long Walk, 69 
Louvain, 126 
Lyme Regis, 86 


Madeley, 57-60, 71 
Madrid, 28 
Marston Moor, 154 
Medway, 189 
Mere, 93-94 
Merton, 116 
Middelburgh, 26, 122 
Monckton Wyld, 87 
"Moor Close," 69 
Moorfields, 172 
Morieaux, 108 n. 

Moseley 6l, 67, 69-76 
Mulberry Garden, 145, 198 


Netherbury, 91 

Newbury, 15 

New Exchange, 197-8 

New Jersey, 189 

Newmarket, 49, 156, 20 1, 226, 239, 

241, 257, 278-9 
Newport, Essex, 188 
Newport, Salop, 45 
New Spring Garden, 198 
New Street, Worcester, 48 
New York, 189 
Nore, The, 211 
North Cheriton, 93 
Northleach, 79 n. 
Nottingham, 13 


Old Exchange, 197 
Old Winchester, 98 
Ombersley, 51 
Over-Compton, 87 n. 
Oxford, II, 14 sqq. t 85, 210 

Packington, 78 

" Pageant " Tavern, 145 n. 

Palais Royal, 207 

Pall Mall, 281 

Paris, 27, 84, 108 n., 115-116 

" Paradise," 198 

Pendennis Castle, 18 

Peronne, 116 

Perry Wood, Worcester, 47 

Perth, 40, 41, 43-4 

Pilsdon, 87 n., 91 

Pitchcroft, Worcester, 46 

Poissy, 33 

Poleroon, 189 

" Pomme d'Or," Ghent, 38 

Pontoise, 120 

Poole, 105, 210 

Portsmouth, 174 

Portugal, 172-4 

Powick, 46 

Powick Bridge, 46 

Portsmouth, 173 

Preston, 26 

Primrose Hill, 222 

" Prince " in the "Sun," 198 



Pump Court, Temple, 191 
Pyrenees, 133 

" Queen's Arms," Charmouth, 


Reading, 14 

Redclifie Gate, Bristol, 79 

Redhill, 46 

Reigate, 23 

Renalls, 231 

" Restoration " Tavern, 145 n. 

Richmond, 80 

River Gambo, 253 

Rochester, 142 

Rotterdam, 140 

Rouen, 37, 105, 107, 132 

Roundhill, Kinver, 51 

Roundham Ferry, Bristol, 79 

Royston, 155 

St. Andrews, 39 

St. Germains, 22, 25, 32, 34 

St. Heliers, 19 

St. James' Park, 253 

St. John's, Clerkenwell, 242 

St. Lo, 36 

St. Malo, 19, 132 

St. Martin's Gate, Worcester, 48 

St. Mary's, Oxford, 15 

St. Mary's, Scilly Isles, 19 

St. Paul's School, 144 

Salisbury, 93 sqq., 154 

Sandford-Orcas, 93 

San Sebastian, 133 

Schevening, 139 

Scilly Isles, 18-9 

Severn, 46, 57-9 

Sheldonian Theatre, Oxford, 237 

Sherbum, 83 

Shifnal, 64 

Shoreham, 104-5 

Shrewsbury, 57~9 

Sidbury Gate, Worcester, 46 

Snitterfield, 78 n. 

Southwark, 142 

Spa, 116 

Spain, 31, 133 

Spring Coppice, 54 

Spring Gardens, 26, 196-7 

I Stanstead, 100 
Stirling, 41 
Stonehenge, 95 
Stoughton, 46 
Stourbridge, 51 
Stour River, 51 
Stow-on-the-Wold, 79 n. 
Stratford-on-Avon, 77-8 
Strathbogie, 39 
Sudbury Gate, Worcester, 46 
" Sun," Chipping Campden, 79 n. 
" Sun," Louvain, 126 
Sweden, 206 

Tangier, 162, 188, 203, 219 

Taunton, 235 

Teammouth, 46 

Thorn Farm, Inkberrow, 77 

" Three Mariners " Tavern, 302 

"Three Spanish Gypsies," 157 

Titchfield, 100 

Tithing, Worcester, 48 

Tong, 66 

Tong-Castle, 52 

Torbay, 277 

Tottenham-Court, 198 

Toulouse, 133 

Town-ditch, Worcester, 48 

Trent, 83-4, 92 sqq. 

Trevuren, 132 

Trippneuve, 37 

"Triumph" Tavern, 145 n. 

Truro, 17-8 

"Tub "Tavern, 282 

Tunbridge Wells, 184-5, 2 8 

Tyburn, 231 


Upton-on-Severn, 46 
Ury River, 39 

Vauxhall, 196-7, 302 
Vilvord, 126 
Virginia, 226 


Wales, 59 

Walpole House, Chiswick, 275 

Warder within Ludgate, 222 n. 



Warnford, 98 
Wamington Bridge, 45 
Wells, 17 
Westbourne, 97 
Whitehall, 144, 196 
Whiteladies, 51-2 
Wight, Isle of, 105-6 
Wiltshire, 235 
Wimborne St. Giles, 210 
Wincanton, 93 
Winchester Palace, 241 
Windsor, 232 
Wolverhampton, 51 
Wombourne, 51, 214 
Woodhouselee, 44 
Woodstock, 1 86, 269 

Worcester, 45, sqq. 
Worcester House, 180 
Wordsley Church, 51 
Wrottesley Woods, 51 
Wuestwezel, 130 
Wychwood Forest, 214 

Yarmouth, 26 
York House, 214 

Zaragoza, 133 
Zevenbergen, 131 


"Absalom and Achithophel," 221, 

2 39 
" Absent from thee I languish still," 


Addison in the Guardian , 1 80 
Airy, Dr., 229 
" Allusion to Horace," 270 
Antonio in " Venice Preserved," 151 


Bate's " Elenchus Motuum," 77 n. 
Behn, Mrs. Aphra, 150 
"Bellamira, or The Mistress," 270 
Ben Jonson's " Silent Woman," 153 n. 
Bishop Earle's " Microcosmograp- 

hie," 7 

Buckingham, Duke of. See PERSONS. 
Burnet, Gilbert. See PERSONS. 
Burton's " Anatomy of Melancholy," 

14-5, 169 
Butler, i Samuel, 153, 167-8, 200, 


" Cavalier and Puritan," 233 n. 
Chesterton, Mr., 286-7 
Clarendon, Earl of. See PERSONS. 
Cibber, Colley, 148 n. 
Cowley, Abraham, 141, 153 
Crowne, dramatist, 149 n. 
" Cydaria," 280 


Defoe, Daniel, 185 n., 190 

Dorset, Earl of. See PERSONS. 

Dryden, John, 23, 150 ; " Absalom 
and Achithophel, " 221, 239 ; 
"Albion and Albanius," 238 ; 
"An Evening's Love," 302; 
" Annus Mirabilis," 189 ; " As- 
trea Redux, 132 n., 147 n. ; "Epi- 
logue to SirFopling Flutter, "301- 
2 ; Essay on Dramatic Poetry, 27 1 

Dryden, John, his " Indian Em- 
peror," 280; " MacFlecknoe," 
238; "Medal," 1 5 1, 238; "Secret 
Love," 280; " Secular Masque," 
252; "Threnodia Augustalis," 
I S3 > " Tyrannic Love," 280, etc. 


Earle, Dr. See PERSONS. 
" Elenchus Motuum," 77 
" Elephant in the Moon," 168 
Etheredge, Sir George, 254, 

279. 301-3 
Evelyn, Mr. See PERSONS. 

"Feigned Courtezans," 150 




Gramont, Comte de. See PERSONS. 
Guarini, 126 n. 


Herrick's " Pastoral on birth of 

Prince Charles," I 
"History of the Great Rebellion," 

"Hudibras," 151 

" I pass all my time in a shady old 
grove," 151-2, 211 


"John Inglesant," 14-15 

" King in Exile," 49 n. 


"Love still has something of the 
Sea," 269 


Marvell, Andrew, 140 n., 147 n., 
151, 189, 217-20; his King's 
speech, 217-20; his "Historical 
Poem," 140 n., 147 n. ; his " Re- 
hearsal Transposed," 151 

"Microcosmographie," 7 n. 

Moliere, J. B. P. de, 150 

" Mulberry Garden," 269 

Mulgrave, Earl of. See PERSONS. 


Newcastle, Duchess and Duke of. 

" No Puede Ser," 149 n. 
" Not, Celia, that I juster am," 270 


"Og,"2 3 8 

"On Nothing," 270 

" Pastoral upon the Birth of Prince 
Charles," i 

" Pastor Fido," 126 

Pepys' "Diary." Cf. Pepys in 


" Peveril of the Peak," 221 
" Phillis is my only Joy," 269 
" Phillis, without Frown or Smile," 

Poems on the Birth of Prince Charles, 

" Pseudodoxia Epidemica," 169 


" Rehearsal," 262 

" Religio Medici," 169 

Rochester, Earl of, 265, 270-1. And 

Roscommon, Earl of, 271 
" Rupert, Prince Palatine," 49 n. 

Scott, Miss Eva, 49 n. 

Sedley, Sir Charles, 253-5, 264, 269 

Shadwell, 238, 282 ; his " Medal of 

John Bayes," 238 
Shakespeare, William, 278 
" She would if she could," 303 
Shirley, dramatist, 151 
"Sidrophel," 169 
" Sir Courtly Nice," 149 n. 
" Sir Fopling Flutter," 301-2 
" Sir Positive At- All," 272 
Sir Robert Howard, 271 
Swift's " Voyage to Laputa," 168 
Swinburne, 285 

Temple, Sir William. See PERSONS. 

Tennyson, 286 

"To all you Ladies now on Land," 


" Tom Otter," 153 
"Travels of the King," 149 n. 

" Vulgar Errors," 169 

Waller, Edmund, 147-8, 153, 182, 
187, 189, 203 ; his " Last Instruc- 
tions to a Painter," 189 

Wycherley, dramatist, 194, 201-2, 
275 ; his "Country Wife," 194 




" Abhorrers," 235 

Act of Indemnity, 161 

Advertisements, 153-4 > Appendix 

Ambassadors, 206 

Antimonial Cup, 246 

Arabian Sheep, 253 

Army, 162-3 

Assassination Plot, 238 

Astrology, 169 

Aurum Potabile, 252 


Balearian Crane, 253 

Barebones Parliament, 225 

Basset, 257, and 303 

Battledore and Shuttlecock, 202, 303 

Bellman, 195 

Birmingham Protestants, 225 n. 

Black Box, 234 

Bog-trotters, 225 

Bowls, 257-9 

Bransle, 258 

Cabal, 206, 215, 225 
Carduus-posset, 80 
Cavalier Parliament, 162, 167 
Chapel Services, 257 
Chedreux, 199 
Choughs, 253 
Cinchona, 233 n. 
Clocks and Watches, 297-8 
Closure of Exchequer, 240 n. 
Cock-fighting, 258-9 
Coffee, 298-300 
" Confidents," 199 
Convention Parliament, 162 
Country Dances, 258 
Country Party, 217 
Country Rejoicings at the Restora- 
tion, 145-6 
Court Ball, 258 
Covenanters, 25, 225 
Crambo, 202, 303 
" Cuckolds all arow," 258 


Declaration of Breda, 135 

" Died Abner as a fool dieth ? >; 222 

Disguises, 188 

Dissenters, 167 

Dissolution of the Cabal, 215 

Distresses of English at Coin, 122-3 ; 

at Paris, 113 
Dotterel-hunting, 259 
Dragoons, 173 
Dress, 198-9, 301-2 
Drury Lane Theatre, 280 
Duke of York's Regiment, 163 
" Duke's House," 282 
Duke's Theatre, 254-5 

Earl of Oxford's Cavalry, 163 
Elixir vitae, 252 
Embassies, 212-14 
Engagers, 25, 26 
Exclusion Debate, 225 

Factions among English in Paris, 114 
Farneley Wood Rising, Yorkshire, 


"Faure," 199 
"Favourites," 199 
Festivities at French Court, 24 
Fifth- Monarchy Men, 162 
First Exclusion Bill, 229-30 
First Whig Parliament, 229 
First Whig Parliament dissolved, 229 
Fives (the game), 84 
Foire de St. Germain, 184 
" Fop-Corner," 255 
"Fore-Top," 199 
" Four Days' Battle," 189 
Fox-hunting, 259 
French and Spanish Ambassadors' 

fl"3,V 212 

" French Brawl," 258 
Fronde, 27 
Furniture, 202 

" Gazette Burlesque," 123 

General Monk's Regiment, 163 

Gloves, 199 

Golf, 155 

Great Fire, 190-1 ; destruction caused 

by, 193 

Green Ribbon Club, 222-4 
Grief of Cavaliers, 1649 . . 27-8 
Groom-Porter, 257 
Guinea Goats, 253 




Habeas Corpus Act, 299-300 
Hair-dyeing, 199 
Hawking, 131-2, etc. 
"Heart-Breakers," 199 
Highlanders in Bruges, 126 
Houses and Furniture, 202 
Hunting, 132, 259, etc. 

Imitation of French Fashions, 200 
Indemnity, Act of, 161 
Indifference at Court, 167 
Indoor Amusements, 202 and 302-3 
" Insurrection Plot," 238 
" Irish," 225 

Jesuits of Rue St. Antoine, 115 n. 
Jesuits' powder, or bark, 233, 23311., 
and 246 


Kentish Foot Regiment, 141 
" King's Drops," 245 
" King's Evil," 71 and 171-2 
" King's Head Club," 223 
King's Own Life Guards, 142 
King's Own Regiment, 163 
King's Theatre, 280 

"London "(Ship), 140 

" Long Paume " (a game), 128 

Louvrians' Faction, 114 


"Mam's Luck," 21 1 
Marriage Negotiations, 172 sq. 
Maundy Money, 171 n. 
Meals, 196 

"Meal-Tub Plot," 227 
" Mercurius Politicus," 124 
Mompesson's drummer, 172 
Monk's Regiment, 163 
Moorish Embassy, 212-4 
Muffs, 199 
Muscovite Embassy, 213-4 


" Naseby " (ship), 138 n. 
Naval supremacy of England, 209 
New Privy Council Scheme, 229 
Noises of London, 194-5 
Non-Resisting Bill, 217 

Opera, 258 

Ostend privateer, 106 

Ostriches and lions given to the 

King, 214 

Outdoor Amusements, 198 
Oxford Parliament, 214 

Pageants in London on Queen's 

arrival, 179 

Palais Royal Faction, 1 1 8 
Pall-Mall, 148, 155, 253, 297 
Parliament spy at Beauvais, 37 
Peace with Holland, 215 
Periwigs, 199 

Persian fashions in dress, 198 
" Petitioners," 225, 235 
"Petits Jeux" at French Court, 


Plague, 190, 194 
Political Parties in Scotland, 25 
Pope-burnings, 224, 234 
Popish Plot 217, 221 sqq. 
'Prentices, 197 
Presbyterian Plot, 227 
Protestant Flail, 224 
" Proud Black Eagle " (ship), 19 
"Public Intelligencer," 171-2 
Punchinello, 198 
Puritanism destroyed, 162 
Puritanism, spirit of, 203 

Quakers, 165-6 

Queen's Cabinet, Whitehall, 25-7 

Querelle d'Allemand, 209 

Quinine, 233 n. 

Quinkinna, 233 n. 


Raree-shows, 236 
Regicides, 160 



Regimental dress, 1669.. 163 
Restoration Ceremonies, 140-6 
Restoration Procession, 143 
Revolution in Holland, 215 
" Royal Charles" (ship), 139 and 189 


Royalist Factions in the West, 1 7 
Royalists in Oxford, 1642-6.. 14, 15 
Royal Society, 167-8 
Rye House Plot, 239 

Scents, 200-1 

Science, 167 sq. 

" Sealed Knot," 122 

Sealing-wax, 201 

Second Dutch War, 189-90 

Second Whig Parliament, 234-6 

Secret Treaty of Dover, 206, 212 

Sects, 164-6 

Sedan-chairs, 195, 300-1 

Sham Treaty of Dover, 206 

Shops, 197 

"Side-glassing," 255-6 

Sign-boards, 195, 301 

" Sir Edmund Berry Godfrey's Head " 

a sign, 222 n. 
Snowballing, 273 
Snuff, 20 I 

Stag Hunting in Holland, 131 
Star visible at Prince Charles' birth, 2 
States-General (Deputies visit the 

King), 136 
Stockings, 200 
Street-cries, 196 
Stuart fondness for dogs, 154 
Superstitions, 171-2 
" Swiftsure " (ship), 140 
" Swordsmen " faction, 115 

" Tantivys," 225 

Taverns, 195 

Tea, 187-8, and 298 

Temple Fire, 191-3 

Tennis, 134, 148, 155-259, 297 

Test Act, 215, 275 

Theatre, 254 

Third Dutch War, 206, 214-5 

Third Whig Parliament, 236-7 

" Tories," 225 

Tory Club, 222 n. 

Touching for the Evil, 171 

" Trainias " or sledges, 273 

Travelling in London, 197 

Travelling in Spain, 133 

Treaty of Breda, 37 

"Trembleuss," 165 

Trials for the Plot, 227 

Triple Alliance, 206 

"True Blues," 225 n. 


Waterfowl, 253 

Week in a Courtier's Life, A, 252- 

Welsh Nurse for the Prince, 3 

Whig Opposition ends, 239 

Whigs, 225 sqq. 

Whigs' election triumph, 229 

" Wild Irish," 225 

Witches, 169 

Writing-paper, 2OI 

" Yorkists," 225 




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